Shooting Stars
by Chained Dove
Summary: We became legends overnight. We were idols. We were the ones everyone wanted, the ones everyone wanted to be. Things happened so quickly back then that we couldn't see tomorrow past the lights... [Grasper fic]
1. Scales

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter One: Scales**

* * *

Author's notes: Hihi everyone! How are you? Thanks for clicking! I know no one knows who the hell I am in the Gravitation fandom, but I hope you give me a try anyway! I'm a seasoned fanfiction veteran in other fandoms, so I promise good spelling, grammar and characterization.

Anyway, this fic came from the blatant lack of good "How Nittle Grasper was formed" fics. I have yet to find one that truly satisfies me, so I decided to write my own version, in which Tohma isn't an abused little poor boy with a tragic past, Ryuichi isn't secretly falling apart under the childish behavior, and Noriko isn't expendable.

As far as the timeline goes: I placed the series in 1999 (yes, I randomly picked a year at around the time of the release of the OAV), and I have spent considerable time making sure everyone's ages are right during the fic. When we first see Tohma interacting, he's 17, then the year he graduates high school he's 18, he's just about to turn 19 when he meets Noriko, and 20 during the last scene with Eiri... yes. When we meet Noriko she's 15. That should give you ages.

**This is a new note, added around the time of chapters 11 and 12:** There _are_ pairings in this fic, after all. Quite a few. Let me list everything for you. Tohma/Eiri is the underlying one, though, as I have said before, the fic _is_ rooted in canon, so that isn't something that will last. There is also one-sided Ryuichi/Tohma, Sakano/Tohma, and Mika/Tohma (I swear I'll make that one make sense). Well, and Tetsuya/Noriko, but that _is_ canon.

Final note: no Ryuichi in this chapter :sniffle: But he'll be in the next one, I swear! For now, enjoy Tohma, the Uesugi kids, and Noriko. And review! Review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation, but I'll buy Ryuichi for myself if anyone is selling...

* * *

Most of all, when I think about my childhood, I remember playing scales.

Summer, winter, weekday or weekend, it didn't matter; every day at exactly five o'clock I was seated at the piano, and I began with scales, over and over, starting with C major and working my way through the twelve keys around the circle of fifths, feeling my fingers slowly warm and relax. At first the scales were difficult, back when my hands were still too small to reach across an octave and my legs dangled off of the piano bench. Back then, Yamada-sensei came every week in her identical stark suits with her constantly pinched expression and sat on the bench next to me, and positioned my hands, and hit them with a pencil when they didn't move fast enough. As the years went by and my feet could reach the pedals, my hands became faster and my rhythm smoother, the pencil stayed tucked behind the sheaves of music on the piano, forgotten, and scales became just an excuse to let my mind wander.

Every morning I carefully brushed my carefully bowl-cut hair and my mother inspected my impeccable uniform before giving me a thoughtless pat on the head and forgetting about my existence until the evening. There was a driver in a big black car who drove me to my exclusive private school in the mornings and picked me up at exactly four so that I could be at the piano by five, playing scales to an empty house.

I didn't have many friends growing up, discounting the carefully polite children of my parents' carefully polite friends, most of whom must have sensed my natural aloofness and never bothered getting to know me. I was different, in more ways than anyone could quite say out loud. I hade pale hair and eyes, and perhaps I would have had trouble from the other children, had my father not been the one paying the salaries of half their parents. Instead, I was left almost fastidiously alone, earning nothing but a few odd looks from some of the newer students and a handful of whispers behind my back. I was short and slight, and I had a pretty face much more suited to a girl and lashes long enough to bump into my glasses when they were perched on the bridge of my nose. My speaking voice was soft and I said little, because others said little to me.

I didn't mind. I was content to be the quiet boy, the child of the corporate magnate, the genius, the little gentleman, whatever they called me when they patted my head and planned ways to get into my father's favor. Content, as long as I could sit down at the piano every evening, open a music book after my scales were completed, choose something at random, and let the music come alive.

It never mattered to me that no one heard me play. The house was empty until late at night, when my father came home from work or a rendezvous with his latest mistress and my mother breezed in with her hands full of shopping bags and smelling of strange cologne covered by her own expensive French perfume. At five, the house was still, and I played Bach and Mendelssohn to a silent audience of antique furniture and velvet curtains. Sometimes I would close my eyes and let the music come from inside of me instead of the sheet music in front of me. Then melody and rhythm took over, and sometimes I would open my eyes to see the clock on the wall said it was seven or eight, and my fingers were cramping.

One day when I had begun to wander off into my own imaginings in the middle of a Chopin ballade, there was the foreign sounding of applause from the archway into the parlor, and my fingers tangled and I struck a few discordant notes before I could forget my shock and turn around. It was a girl a few years younger than myself, perhaps in junior high, a slight smile on her face and her long brown hair pulled into a neat braid. She was dressed in a formal kimono, but her eyes were mischievous when she bowed to me. "Your playing is very beautiful, Seguchi-san," she said. "Your mother told me I could find you here."

It wasn't a particular surprise to me when the girl was introduced later in the evening as Uesugi Mika, my fiancée. As a family of means, it seemed sensible that everything, particularly the eldest and only son's spouse, be chosen with careful precision. I found Mika-san pleasant enough and her father found me polite and equally suitable, so my future was mapped out for me by the time I was seventeen. It never occurred to either of us to mind. We saw each other rarely for the next few years, in any case, barring my family's short flight to Kyoto upon the death of Mika-san's mother the next year.

"My brother isn't at all like you," she told me then, as we sat out on the back porch of her family's temple and I watched the fish in the small koi pond. "He doesn't like doing anything Otousan says, and does poorly in his classes. He gets into a lot of fights because he has light hair and doesn't look Japanese. Did you ever get into fights in school?"

It was late April and I had only just graduated, at the top of my class, naturally, but already school was becoming a concept of the past, though I would be starting at college in a few weeks. "No," I said, "I never fought in school." It occurred to me that perhaps I was simply too skin-deep to fight. Eiri-kun had been silent when I had seen him earlier that day, but there had been deep pain in his eyes at his mother's memorial. I couldn't imagine feeling an emotion deep enough to show on my face. "Perhaps he will learn as he grows up," I said to Mika-san in hopes of placating her. "He's still young."

"He should grow up to be like you, Tohma-san," the girl told me with a smile. "You are the perfect eldest son."

I accepted her compliment with a politely indefinite "Sou desu ne…" and we lapsed into silence, watching the fish in the pond swirl listlessly around, meaninglessly wasting their short lives.

* * *

I started at Tokyo University (nothing less than the top college in Japan would have been acceptable) that spring without a thought that my life was going to change in the least. I enrolled with a business emphasis, fully intending then to follow in my father's footsteps. A few people tried to approach me at first, girls, mostly, but I hadn't the slightest idea how to deal with them, and the novelty of my slightly exotic looks and impeccable manners must have worn off after a while, because I found myself alone more and more often. And still, I came home every night and sat down at the piano to play my scales and improvise on themes by famous composers, because the habit was too ingrained to stop at that point, even if I hadn't had any lessons in over a year.

There was a café near campus where I sometimes came for lunch. It was a quiet, sunny place, and very relaxed to be the kind of thing I usually chose. However, there was a piano in the corner, and because there was a piano school around the block, there was almost always music. Sometimes the players were good and sometimes barely passable, but I enjoyed their efforts, so I came and sat unobtrusively in the corner. It never occurred to me to ask to play the piano myself until the day I advised the bartender that the upper two octaves were slightly out of tune and offered the number of the man who came to tune my piano every month like clockwork.

"You play?" the bartender asked me, surprised. "How come you never take a turn up on the bench? Everyone else does."

"I never considered it," I replied with a small shrug. "I'm not from their school, and I don't want to be a nuisance."

"You should see it when the high school crowd invades after four," the man said, clearly hell-bent on having a conversation. "It's real cacophony then, unless it's Nori-chan playing. She's about the only one whose playing doesn't grate on my ears." He shrugged then. "The kids seem to like it. Of course, then the place takes on the appearance of a rock and roll joint, and I can't get them to clear out before closing…"

I had no idea why he was telling me all this. "Here's Maeda-san's phone number," I said, scribbling it down on a napkin.

"You should play sometime," the bartender called after me, "if you really come because you enjoy the music."

I didn't really pay attention as I left the café and hurried the three blocks back to campus for class.

* * *

A few weeks later I found myself at the campus library far past my usual time on Friday, and when my research was finished at nine I felt a little put out. My mother would be home by now, and I wouldn't be able to play the piano, because she had a firm policy against noise after eight. My mood wasn't at its best when I headed out of the library and towards the car I had recently purchased. It was Japanese-made, of course, because my father wouldn't have approved of a foreign car, and it started to a quiet purr right away, the radio spilling out the notes of a Haydn quartet. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed for home.

There was night construction going on along the main roads. After a few frustrated minutes of standing in traffic after dark, I swung onto a side street. For someone as even-tempered as I was, I certainly reacted badly to slow traffic; I would have done just about anything to get away from the snail's pace.

My detour took me past the café where I sometimes ate my lunches. As I drove past it, I glanced out of my window. The place was lit up though the shops on either side had already closed, and looked to be packed with people. Through my window, rolled down because of the warm night, I heard a few strains of music and laughter. On an impulse, I doubled around at the next block and found a parking spot. Without any clear idea of what I was doing or why, I headed towards the light.

The noise hit me like a tangible thing when I swung the door open. The café was bursting at the seams with young people, most of them my age or younger, and there were two girls sitting at the piano currently, pounding out something I assumed was the latest hit with a plethora of small mistakes mixed in. A few of the people in the crowd were singing along, but most of them were talking and laughing amongst themselves. Feeling a little self-conscious, I squeezed into a corner near the piano and lounged against the wall. I had no idea why I was here. However, I didn't have long to wonder.

The two girls finished their duet and received some scattered applause. They jumped off the small stage the piano was resting on and melted into the crowd, but the piano stool didn't stay unoccupied for long. There was a sudden cheer, mostly male, I noted, and a girl in a gray school uniform with a scandalously short skirt (I assumed she was one of the girls who rolled their uniform skirts up to appear stylish) and her pigtailed hair liberally streaked with neon green vaulted onto the stage. "I'm piko piko Noriko-chan!" she called out in a high-pitched, cheerful voice to more cheers. "Is everybody ready to party?" More cheers greeted this question. The girl did a little pirouette (making her already-short skirt whirl out and giving all assembled a very nice view of rather nice legs), curtsied to wild applause, pulled off her uniform jacket, and threw it into the crowd. Rolling up her sleeves, she plopped down on the piano bench, grinned at the public, whose full attention she had captured, and began to play.

She surprised me. While I didn't know the furiously fast tune she was playing, the audience clearly approved, and a boy in a similar uniform hopped up onstage to sing along, mostly on pitch, and cast suggestive glares the girl's way. She ignored him, continuing to play with complete abandon. That was what surprised me; she couldn't be older than fifteen or sixteen, but she played remarkably well for that age, and on the second verse she added a pretty soprano descant to the boy's wailing, never letting up on the devilishly complex accompaniment as she sang.

When the song was finished, the crowd erupted in cheers and tumultuous applause. Even I had to clap, as her performance, while a little rough around the edges, had been nothing if not captivating. She blew the boy who had been singing a smacking kiss, causing him to blush, and perched up on the bench, looking highly self-satisfied when a girl in the crowd called out, "You're going to be a star, Nori-chan!"

"Of course I am!" she giggled, shaking her colorful pigtails.

"And you're so modest about it!" called another voice.

Immediately, she hopped up to stand on the bench and crossed her arms in front of her. "I'd like to see someone in here disprove it. No one plays like Nori-chan."

There were a few catcalls from the audience. "Someday, someone will put her in her place," a girl near me grumbled.

"Oh, don't be so mean," her friend said. "I know you can't get Ajisaka in class B to pay attention to you because of her, but it's not her fault she's popular."

"I'd like to see someone outdo her, anyway," the first girl grumbled, "before her head swells bigger than Hokkaido."

"Well? Is anyone challenging my title of supreme piano champion of the world?" the girl on the piano bench called out with another infectious laugh.

And then I heard my own voice, quite clearly, replying, "I will."

Immediate silence greeted this statement as everyone turned to see who had made the outlandish claim. I myself was surprised, but it was too late to say anything now. "Well then," the girl said with a smirk, "come on up here, stranger. I haven't seen you before, so you aren't from Kaoru High School."

Feeling many eyes on me and cursing my face which made me appear at least five years younger than I really was, I shrugged. "I'm not," I told her shortly. Realizing there was nothing for it but to come up to the stage, I folded my own jacket, set it on a nearby table, and stepped onto the small stage to stand eye-to-eye with the girl, who looked very pleased with herself. "Does it matter where I go to school?"

She only grinned at me with a good dose of arrogance. "I only care if you can play. No one challenges Nori-chan and lives to tell the tale."

"So drastic," I demurred as I sat down at the piano and stretched my fingers. "Will I die if I outplay you, then?"

"No one outplays me," she said brightly. "Now then, do you know _Nagareboshi?_" I shook my head. "_Perfect Romance? Himitsu?_" I shook my head again, realizing I knew absolutely nothing about popular music. "What _do_ you know?"

"Give me a melody," I said calmly.

She looked at me for a moment with narrowed eyes. "Fine," she said. She closed her eyes and sang a few bars of something in heavily accented English. It was quick, I noted. And of course, the chord changes which I could hear in my mind weren't simple, either. I hadn't thought she would pick something easy. "That suit?"

"Quite." I smiled my angelic little-boy smile, stretched my fingers once, and put my hands on the keys. I had only a moment to wish I had had a chance to play my scales before I was improvising, the pace of the music picking up as I gained confidence. For the first few moments, there was silence from the audience, then a few female voices picked up on the melody and began to sing. I didn't watch the people around me; instead I closed my eyes and let the music flow.

It wasn't a style I had worked in before, but I found the heavy rhythm and harmonic repetition to my liking. When I got to the end of the melodic fragment Noriko-san had sung, I began to follow the voices in the audience, who showed no sign of stopping their singing. When the song had clearly reached its end, I modulated to another key and kept playing in the same style with a melody of my own making. Then, just for fun, I swung into the last several bars of the piece Noriko-san had played earlier, playing them even faster than she had, before ending with a flourish of a roll up the keyboard before removing my hands from the keys. There were cheers starting already, many of them from girls, and I found to my great surprise that I was enjoying the feeling of being admired. I barely suppressed a foolish grin as I looked up at the girl who had been watching me critically. "Does that suit?" I asked in her own words.

Her face was unreadable for a moment. "What's your name?"

"Seguchi Tohma," I replied, wondering why she wanted to know this now. "You play very well, Noriko-san," I added, feeling a little guilty about showing up a high school girl in front of her peers. I stood from the bench, uncomfortable.

She was silent for another moment, then her face split into a grin. "Oh, go ahead, feel smug, Tohma-kun," she said with a laugh, never asking if she could use my first name, simply assuming. "You blew me out of the water just now." She stuck out her hand. "No hard feelings," she announced. I took her hand and shook it, feeling conspicuous now that everyone was staring at me and I wasn't playing.

Instead of releasing my hand, she tugged me back towards the bench, sitting on the right side. "But you have to play with me to make sure I don't change my mind and kill you," she said with mock seriousness, pulling me down on the bench next to her. Then she waved at the crowd and asked, "Well, now that I've been well and truly shown up, who has requests for the supreme piano _champions?_"

The crowd shouted names of songs. Noriko-san nodded, and started with the melody. A few bars in, I joined her with harmony, feeling remarkably comfortable for someone who had never truly been in public attention before.

By the time I made my way home I was drunk on applause and the clock showed an hour more suitable to waking up than going to bed. I was grinning as I plopped down into bed half-dressed.

"Come back again," she had said when the owner of the place had started chasing the crowd out near one. "It's more fun with you here." Uninhibited, she had squeezed my hand before running out after a gaggle of girls.

I never once doubted I would.

* * *

Looking back at that, it was Sakakura Noriko who turned my life around. I still had my daily life at the university, my classes, my lectures. I still played scales in the evenings, and people at school still avoided me. But slowly, the dial of my radio crept to a popular music station from the classical I was used to, and I began to look forward to weekends. Noriko-san seemed well and determined to be my friend, whatever I had to say about it. At first, I told myself I came back to the café Friday nights because I enjoyed playing with someone who knew what she was doing, but soon I came to realize I enjoyed playing with her in particular. I enjoyed her energy and her natural penchant for showmanship, something I lacked. Something about her made me more comfortable with myself. I found myself smiling, sometimes laughing, in her presence, and relaxing on stage little by little.

"Oniichan tried to kill me this morning," she informed me one Saturday afternoon when I had wandered into the café and found her there with a group of friends. She had waved me over to their table and I had sat down without protest.

"What did you do now, Nori-chan?" one of the boys asked laughingly. "Your hair hasn't changed colors lately. You haven't even pierced anything you're not supposed to. Unless it's someplace we can't see."

She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial stage whisper. "Oniichan thinks a dangerous college type is trying to seduce me and turn me on the path of darkness and debauchery," she said with an overly-serious face. "I have, of course, informed him that the only college type I know isn't dangerous in the least, unless he counts a fiendish ability at the piano." Everyone at the table grinned at me. "What do you say, Tohma-kun?" she asked. "Are Oniichan's terrors unfounded?"

Despite myself, I felt my cheeks turning pink. "I'm engaged to be _married_, Noriko-san," I responded. I realized my mistake when the table erupted in questions.

"_Married?_ You?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Is she hot?"

"She's very pretty, but-"

"Do we ever get to meet her?"

"Well, she lives in Kyoto, but-" I said, trying to get a word in edgewise.

The questions showed no sign of stopping. "When?"

"Not for a while; Mika-san is even younger than Noriko-san-"

"Oh, and so young, too!"

"Well, it was an arranged-"

"Are we invited?"

I gave up on answering the ensuing questions until everyone stopped expressing their surprise quite so exuberantly. "Well, I kinda guessed," Noriko-san said with a shrug.

"You did?" I asked, taken a bit aback.

"Well, sure," she said. "You never flirt with anyone." She patted my cheek. "If you can resist the irresistible wiles of piko piko Noriko-chan, you must have either a fiancée or a fondness for boys."

Her candor still shocked me sometimes, but I managed to answer with, "You're very perceptive, Noriko-san. And more than a little forward." After that, the conversation moved on from myself and Mika-san to other subjects, and I breathed a mental sigh of relief.

* * *

I saw Mika-san and her family again the next winter, right after I turned twenty. Her entire family had come to the overblown celebration of my father's fiftieth birthday which filled the house with strangers. Mika-san had grown very tall and begun to experiment lightly with cosmetics. Eiri-kun was just the way I remembered him; he came into the house with a smile for my parents and a black eye. "He's been fighting in school again," Mika-san told me with a frustrated sigh. "He's never going to change." Tatsuha-kun, the youngest brother, was only just toddling around, but he very quickly became the darling of all the women, charming them entirely within minutes with his halfway coherent babble and his wide eyes. "That one will be trouble too," Mika-san prophesied. "I'm not a suitable mother for a bundle of energy like him, and there's no one else."

The party lasted a noisy weekend, and I didn't get a chance to leave the house as I was accustomed on Friday or Saturday. I sighed in regret once, but I didn't think of it again. After all, I was the only son, and my place was most assuredly at home.

On the second night, I was looking for something upstairs when I spotted Eiri-kun seated in the curve of the staircase, looking lost and a little lonely. I sat down next to him. "Are you all right, Eiri-kun?"

He shrugged at me, but answered after a few moments. "I'm sick of everyone staring at me because of my hair. How come no one ever stares at you?"

"Perhaps they stare because it is such nice hair, and not because it is blond?" I joked. I was rewarded with a smile. "I have a friend with blue hair striped violet," I told him. "It was green before, and she's been thinking to make it red next. Everyone stares at her, too, but she doesn't seem to mind."

Eiri-kun sighed. "But that's different," he said. Clearly, this weighed heavily on his ten-year-old mind. "She _wants_ weird hair. I just want to be left alone."

"You could dye it black," I suggested rashly, though I knew no well-respected family would let their child do any such thing. However, I had been picking up radical ideas from Noriko-san despite myself.

"Mikarin says that would be giving up, and a waste," he said. "Something about having a pretty little brother."

I laughed appreciatively. "I don't think you look odd, Eiri-kun," I said at last. "Your hair is just fine as far as I'm concerned." I offered him my hand, feeling a kinship with the lonely boy. "Now, come downstairs before they send someone out looking for you."

Eiri-kun stood and smiled up at me. "Thank you, Seguchi-san," he said.

"Just Tohma, please," I said. "I'm going to be your oniisan someday, and there are enough people named Seguchi-san for you to keep track of without me in the mix."

"Tohma-san, then."

"You know," I said as I started down the stairs, "I didn't have friends in school."

"You either?" he asked. "What did you do?"

"I came home and played scales on the piano for hours," I confessed. "I guess I'm not all that cool either, am I?"

"I suppose if my new oniisan is a dork, I can't complain if I'm one too," the boy replied cheekily.

We went down the stairs hand in hand to rejoin the party, and Eiri-kun looked considerably more cheerful for the rest of the weekend, which earned me grateful looks from his family, particularly Mika-san. "You're going to be the best thing to happen to this family in years," Uesugi-san prophesied. "Maybe with a stable role model like you, the boy will learn some sense."

I thought of the nights I spent playing the piano in a club with a girl with blue hair, and wondered what he would think about my stability if I told him about it. But my well-trained face only smiled softly. "You are too kind, Uesugi-san," I demurred. "I can only hope I won't disappoint you."


	2. Small Changes

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Two: Small Changes**

* * *

Author's notes: And I'm back, all of twelve or thirteen hours after the first chapter. Huzzah for speed-writing!

Lots happens here! For one, as I promised, we meet Ryuichi, and I think I want him even more now. Also, we have the first semi-collaboration on a song between Noriko and Tohma, and the interesting results it has on Tohma's idea of his future. No Uesugis here, just a good healthy dose of piko piko Noriko-chan doing what she does best… making Tohma feel guilty :giggle:

Yes, the song is written by me. If it sounds a little young and wistful, well, it's meant to; she was only eighteen when writing these lyrics after all!

Disclaimer: If no one will sell me Ryuichi, I'll settle for Kumagoro… still don't own anyone you recognize, although Rie, Akane, Kiriko and Midori _are_ mine.

* * *

"When I was little, Okaasan couldn't get me to stop climbing trees and terrorizing the local boys long enough to get me cleaned up and presentable," Noriko-san said, absently twirling her chopsticks in the air over her untouched noodles. It was about three in the morning, and after the café had kicked us out, she had dragged me, protesting all the way, into a twenty-four hour Zenny's around the corner and informed me that I was going to feed her. Giving in to the inevitable, I had ordered her a plate of noodles and myself a cup of coffee. I had known her for three years now, and her eccentricities (such as noodles at three in the morning) had stopped seeming quite so… eccentric.

"Hard to imagine," I said politely, sipping at my coffee.

"Well, the only time I seemed satisfied to be a girl was when I got to play music," she said and shrugged. "I play everything, you know. Violin, flute, oboe, trumpet, some saxophone. I even played around with percussion for a while until it drove Oniichan crazy and he convinced my parents drums weren't ladylike and had them taken away." She grinned at me. "I retaliated a week later by putting extra curry powder into his bento, at which point I'm told he turned purple and ran out on the girl he liked, but we won't get into that."

Despite myself, I smiled. "We can leave that alone," I agreed.

"Anyway, I liked the piano best," she continued. "I guess after a while they figured that out, because Otousan somehow managed to scrape up enough to buy an upright and send me to piano school after regular school. I was about eight at the time. I've been playing ever since. They come to my recitals and everything, and my parents brag about me at parties."

"I think I was too young when I started to remember," I told her. "But I've never played in public before."

"No recitals? Nothing?" she asked, shocked.

"No," I shook my head. "I had a private teacher from the time I was very young until I finished high school."

"Well, you must have played for your family, at least," she insisted.

Again, I shook my head. "My mother doesn't like noise, and my father is never home," I said with a lack of care that clearly surprised her.

"But why did they pay for the lessons?" she wanted to know. "A private teacher must be expensive!"

I felt a little uncomfortable. "Expense isn't a consideration where my father is concerned," I said at last. "I suppose I had the lessons so that I could have a well-rounded education. It was lucky that I love to play, or I would never have learned anything."

"That just sounds… uncomfortable," Noriko-san finally said. "That's not the way my family is at all."

"Oh, I don't mind, really," I said. "I wasn't unhappy. The family takes excellent care of me."

"That's not all that families are supposed to do," she grumbled, and finally took a bite of her cold noodles. "Aren't you ever lonely?"

"Lonely?" It was a foreign concept. "No, I don't suppose I care enough to be lonely," I said at last.

"Do you have ice water in your veins, Tohma-kun?" she asked, exasperation clear in her voice. "Doesn't anything move you?"

"Music," I answered immediately, without thinking. "I feel different when I play." Perhaps the defining point was that I felt, period. I had started to suspect I had gone through life rather easily up to this point. After all, I had never cared enough about anything to rebel against the course that had been carefully set for me, and through Noriko-san I was learning that most people didn't live like that.

"Music," she repeated. "It shows. You _are_ different when you play." At my surprised look, she only reached across for my coffee, sipped at it, then set it back on its saucer. "I watch you. You're changing. Every time you play, you look a little less inhibited, but you slam down a wall of indifference as soon as you stand from the piano. Why?"

Was I indifferent? Probably. "Saa..." I replied abstractly.

"I'm going to graduate this year," she said. "I'm not taking the college entrance exams, although Otousan wouldn't speak to me for three days when I told him. Tamura-sensei thinks I should really try music." At my blank look, she clarified, "The choir teacher at my school. I've been accompanying the school chorus since I started there, and he says even if he's sad to lose me, I should really do something with myself. He thinks I can make it."

"Good for you, Noriko-san," I said with an honest smile. "I wish you all the best." I wondered if my father had his fingers in the music business somewhere—probably—and whether I could talk him into giving her a bit of a push.

"Well, I can't do it by myself," she said, dejected again. "All I can do is play. My singing voice isn't really that great, and I can't compose. About the only thing I can do is write lyrics, but even then I don't hear the melody in my head. I'm hopeless."

"I don't know what to say, Noriko-san," I said. "I'll think, and if I figure out a way to help you, you'll be the first to know."

"What about you?" she asked then, a challenge in her eyes.

"Ah… what about me?" I asked, taken aback.

"You compose," she pointed out. "Well," she added. "Really well. Some of the stuff you improvise is really amazing."

Now I was really surprised. "Well, I… never really thought about it as composition," I finally said. "I just… do it. I don't write it down."

"But ostensibly, you could," she insisted. "You can read music, so you _could_ write it down."

"Well, yes, but-"

"But nothing," she said firmly, shaking her chopsticks at me threateningly. "Music is the only thing that moves you; you've said so yourself. What are you still doing in business school?"

"Finishing it, of course," I said, surprised. "Just like I'm supposed to."

"Supposed to this, supposed to that," she said, perilously close to shouting now. "Do you not have free will or something?"

"Maa, maa, Noriko-san," I said, patting her hand in an attempt to quiet her before the entire clientele of the restaurant was staring at us. "I don't hate business school." It was true. I didn't feel about it like I felt about music, but I found the things I was learning interesting.

She was clearly not pacified, and tears sparkled in her big, violet eyes. "I don't understand you," she said. "If I could afford to just live for music… if I had the choice to just give everything else up… if I was as talented as you are…"

I continued patting her hand. "You're very talented, Noriko-san," I said soothingly, but now the tears were slipping out of her eyes, and she was trembling. "You don't need anyone else."

"Yes I _do!_" she shouted, and this time the attention of everyone was on us. I got more than one disapproving look. Clearly I was at fault for making a girl cry. I tried not to look at anyone else. "I need _you_, you great big idiot!" she continued, softer this time. "I don't know when I was crazy enough to let an ice statue like you become my best friend," she hiccupped. "You're something special, Tohma-kun… why are you the only one who doesn't see it?"

For several minutes, we sat in silence as I held her hand. There was an uncomfortable tightness around my heart at seeing her cry. "I'm sorry, Noriko-san," I kept repeating. "I'm so sorry…" I didn't know what else to say. Music… there was no future in music, though music was the one thing that brought me to life. It was better not to think about it. Let Noriko-san be the dreamer; I had to be pragmatic.

Slowly her tears ran out. She sniffled a few times before she looked at me and tried to smile. "Well, now my face is blotchy and my noodles are too salty," she said with a forced giggle, shaking her hair, loose and zigzagged with red and orange, out of her face. "And everyone here thinks you're the bastard who broke my heart. Oops."

"I'm sorry, Noriko-san," I said again. "Really…"

She shook her head and made a soft sound in her throat that seemed intended to be reassuring. "Can I ask you a favor, Tohma-kun?"

"I'll do it if it's in my power," I promised rashly, hoping she wouldn't ask me for anything too crazy.

"Christmas is coming up in a few weeks," she said. "Write me something, please. Just… something pretty that I can add words to. I have a piano recital the first week of January, and I want to play it."

I smiled and squeezed her hand. "Of course, Noriko-san," I said with relief. "It would be my pleasure."

I didn't think of this as anything other than a favor to a friend. After all, I had offered to write her some music, but then, I reasoned, I created music for her all the time. Nothing could come of it. After all, neither of us were singers. Her crazy ideas about her and me teaming up permanently would fade with time.

The fact that I still thought this only showed that I did not know Sakakura Noriko nearly as well as I thought I did.

* * *

I found writing a song tougher business than I had thought, until I got the clever idea to buy a synthesizer and hit record as I began to improvise. It went a great deal faster after that, and although I threw several drafts away, the final copy was still completed well before the deadline Noriko-san had set for me.

Christmas was a noisy affair. Everyone was dressed brightly and laughing at our café that night. I couldn't have imagined a better way to spend the evening than in the crowded, well-lit room, mostly on the stage together with Noriko-san, entertaining with Western carols interspersed with popular songs. By then, there were few places I was more comfortable than on that piano bench. Everybody was a little drunk and silly, and the tables had been moved aside to make room for dancing.

At the end of the evening, I presented Noriko-san with a sheaf of papers tied in a silver ribbon. "Your song," I told her. "It isn't much, but I'm sure you can improve it."

I only got the warning of her sparkling grin before she tacked me, kissed me full on the mouth, then spun away, still laughing. Somehow, a laugh was the first reaction I had as well. There was nothing odd or uncomfortable about the moment; it never occurred to me then to realize this was because Noriko-san was my one true friend, a friend that was close enough that I didn't really think of her as a girl any longer. Noriko-san was just… Noriko-san, I thought, as I was called upon to accompany _Oh Holy Night_ while she sang in her sweet, clear soprano. That was all there was to it.

* * *

"You dress like a miniature university professor," Noriko-san told me the day before her recital, wrinkling her nose. Her hair was a sedate brown—she told me her piano teacher always made her dye it a respectable color before she went on stage. "You're only, what, twenty?"

"Twenty-two."

"You still dress too old. It looks so odd with your face. Why don't you wear _colors?_"

"You wear enough colors for both of us," I joked as we walked down the sidewalk in one of the biggest shopping districts in Tokyo. It was true. It was cold, so she was wearing a bright red coat with purple fur trim, and orange jeans, as well as glittery multicolored clips holding up her hair and a choker with a big violet heart on it.

She looked at my plain black coat and gray scarf disapprovingly. "It doesn't suit you," she stated. Then she grabbed my hand. "Come on, Tohma-kun. We're going shopping."

"Wait, I-" but that was all the protesting I could do before she pulled me into the nearest department store and headed off towards the men's section with determination on her delicate face, and, as always, I decided fighting her was more trouble than it was worth.

She made me take off my coat and turned me around critically a few times. Then she said, "Wait here," and disappeared among the racks of clothes. Obediently, I stood, looking rather out of place, I thought. Fortunately, she returned not ten minutes later, her arms full to overflowing with clothing. "Start with these," she instructed, and shoved me into a dressing room.

By the time we left the department store two hours later, my normal clothes were tucked away in one of the several bags I held, and I felt more than a little self-conscious in a deep green shirt ("It matches your eyes," she had said) with the first three buttons undone, and narrow black jeans, as well as a new scarf, red, over my coat, which was the only part of my wardrobe Noriko-san seemed to approve of. She had also stuffed a wide-brimmed black hat on my head and exchanged my expensive Italian shoes for boots. There was more in the bags, most of it colorful.

"There," Noriko-san said with great satisfaction. "_Now_ you are presentable. Look at that, the girls are actually looking at you."

"I don't need the girls to look at me," I said, my arguing becoming weaker by the moment. "If this is what happens when _one_ girl pays attention to me, I can only live in fear of what would happen if there were _more_."

Noriko only giggled. "Look at that, you're even making jokes. Maybe it was just the clothes you wore that made you such a starched-up little old man. There may be hope for you yet."

I gave her a mildly disapproving look. "Your brother was very mistaken about me leading you down the path of darkness and debauchery," I said with amusement. "You're leading _me_."

She curtsied. "We do what we can, sir," she said merrily.

Just then, a veritable bullet of a person shot out from around a corner and ran into Noriko. I barely caught her before she hit the ground, and the bullet, who turned out to be a little girl of about seven, fell flat on her behind and started howling. Moments later, another whirlwind came from around the corner, this one a young man with a smaller girl on his hip and a stuffed bunny clutched under his other arm, trailed by two more girls in their early teens.

"Kiriko-chan!" the young man called out as soon as he saw her. "Oh no, Kiriko-chan, didn't Oniichan tell you not to run?" He knelt down by the little girl and pulled her into his lap, somehow managing not to lose hold of the littlest one or the bunny. "Oh, Kiriko-chan, don't cry, don't cry!" the young man begged her, still fully ignoring us as I set Noriko-san back on her feet and watched him curiously. "If you cry, Kumagoro will be sad!"

"Kumagoro will be sad!" the littlest girl proclaimed. The one who was crying immediately stopped to grab the bunny and press her face into its plush back.

Only then did the young man look up at us with surprising blue eyes (the little girls were all dark) and a sincere smile. "I'm so sorry!" he said. "Kiriko-chan has so much energy… Kiriko-chan, be a good girl and apologize to the nice lady."

"I'm sorry, Oneechan," came a trembling voice from behind the bunny.

The young man set the girl down and stood himself, brushing dirt off of his knees. He reached into his jacket pocket and came up with three lollipops in multicolored wrappers. He handed one to Kiriko-chan, then grinned and held the other two out towards us. "Sorry!" he said again. "Have a lollipop! Lollipops make everything better!"

Noriko-san was smiling. "It's fine, it's fine!" she said, squatting down to look at the little girl with the bunny. Slowly, a dark eye peered out from behind the pink toy. "Sorry, Kiriko-chan," Noriko-san said with a kind smile. "I must have scared you, standing there. Will you be my friend anyway?"

The little girl gave a tremulous nod, and Noriko-san stood up again. "There, no harm done," she said breezily. She accepted a blue lollipop and popped it into her mouth, then passed the green one to me. I stuck it in my pocket. "I probably scared her more than she hurt me, since Tohma-kun was quick enough to catch me."

The young man beamed up at her (she was wearing one of her unbelievable pairs of shoes that made her nearly as tall as me). "Thank you!"

"It must be hard to keep track of all four at once," Noriko-san said. "I commend you."

"It's not hard work when it's fun!" the young man assured her fervently and planted a kiss on the top of the littlest girl's head.

"Oniichan, now that you've caught Kiriko, we're still hungry!" said the oldest girl.

Noriko-san gave them a lightning-quick look, noted their slightly faded clothes and quickly offered, "We'll buy you lunch." Which of course meant I would buy them lunch. "Since I was clumsy enough to run into Kiriko-chan. It takes two."

Kiriko-chan seemed fully recovered, because she began to jump up and down, shouting "Waii, waii! Lunch with my new friend! Isn't that exciting, Kumagoro?"

And that was how I met Sakuma Ryuichi.

* * *

It was in Noriko-san's nature to be giving, a cheerful openness I had always envied her. By the end of the day, she and the Sakuma brood were fast friends, and she had secured a promise from Ryuichi-san to make an appearance at her piano recital after they had spent an enthusiastic half hour talking about music. Midori-chan (the youngest) had insisted that Kumagoro needed a place set at the table for him, and told Ryuichi-san to feed him, which the young man (who was actually nearly my age) did with a look of complete seriousness.

After lunch, we stayed together and wandered around the shopping center until it was dark, and Ryuichi-san caused Kiriko-chan and Midori-chan to cry by telling them it was time to go home. This, however, seemed to be easily rectified, for he said in all seriousness, "But girls, you know how Kumagoro is scared of the dark! It would be awful if he got scared and started crying!" Ryuichi-san himself began tearing up.

I began to think that the whole lot of them actually believed the bunny was sentient when Rie-san, the oldest, sniffled and said "Poor Kumagoro!" and Akane-chan, the quiet one, spoke up adamantly to demand they went home right away before Kumagoro got scared. The strangest part of all of this was, this all appeared to be perfectly logical for the other girls, and they no longer argued as their brother herded them onto a bus. "See you tomorrow, na no da!" Ryuichi-san called as the bus pulled away from the curb.

"Well, that was… interesting," I said as we headed towards the car park where I had left my vehicle earlier. It was just starting to snow lightly, and my arms hurt from all the shopping bags with my new clothing, as well as whatever Noriko-san had bought that she had given me to carry.

"They're adorable!" Noriko-san exclaimed and twirled around in the snow, her arms spread wide.

"They all act Midori-chan's age, though," I said, smiling to see her so happy. "Four."

"That's part of the charm," she told me candidly. "You should try acting like Ryu-chan sometime," she informed me. "You might enjoy it. Look at him. He's so _happy_."

"I think the moon would have to crash into the earth before I could take myself that lightly," I told her. "It's not in my nature."

"More's the pity," she said, but then she somehow managed to get around all the shopping bags to hug me anyway. "That's all right. I love you anyway."

I only stiffened a moment before hugging her back, wondering if it was odd that someone had said "I love you," to me for the first time when I was twenty-two years old.

* * *

I recognized Noriko-san's brother immediately the next day, for when I walked into the recital hall, I immediately felt hostile eyes on me. It didn't take me long to spot a young man with Noriko's violet eyes as the source of the glare. Clearly, he wasn't at all sure of my honorable intentions, no matter what Noriko-san said.

I only had a moment to wonder if I should talk to him and attempt to prove my innocence before a relatively heavy weight crashed into my back, accompanied with a squeal. "Oniichan! You're here!"

When I managed to detach the girl from my back, I discovered it was Kiriko-chan, grinning and dressed in a frilly frock that was already beginning to get rumpled. "Konbanwa, na no da!" came from the door, and the other four trooped in, all dressed in what was clearly their best (even the bunny, who was wearing a doll's tuxedo jacket). "Kiriko-chan, don't knock anyone over today!"

Then, before I had any say about it, I was surrounded by the Sakuma children, all of them giggling and talking at me, without Noriko-san as a buffer. So I somehow organized them into seats and explained to them very carefully that they had to be very quiet when Noriko-oneechan played, because she needed to concentrate. I had no more time to worry about Noriko-san's brother; I had more than enough on my hands here. It occurred to me with horrifying clarity that my parents and Uesugi-san expected Mika and me to raise children, and I hadn't the slightest idea how to put up with them for long periods of time. I was already getting a headache.

A woman (Noriko-san's teacher, I assumed) came onstage and talked for a few minutes about how promising and willing a pupil Sakakura-san had been. "Today is the last she plays for me here, her graduation recital from my school," she said. "I believe this talented young woman has a bright future, and I'm sure you'll agree. Please welcome Sakakura Noriko-san!"

Everyone clapped politely (Ryuichi-san had the bunny in his lap and was clapping its plush paws together), and Noriko-san came onstage.

She was different here than when we played together. She had a simple black dress on, almost severe, and her curly hair had been carefully tucked away into an elegant chignon at the back of her head. She bowed, then set her music on the piano, and began to play—Liszt, Debussy, and Gershwin. When she had finished with everything in the program and stood to acknowledge applause, she did not leave the stage. "Thank you to everyone who could be here today," she said. "My family, who has supported me and my music for as long as I can remember, and my friends." She smiled and for a minute looked much more like the Noriko-san I knew and less like an elegant stranger. "Before I leave you today, I have one more piece to play that is not listed in my program.

"I was given the most beautiful gift of my life a few weeks ago by my closest and dearest friend, Seguchi-san. I know music isn't everyone's dream and future… but I believe it is mine, and I believe it is yours. Here is your song, Tohma-kun, and the words you didn't know went with it." With this statement, she sat back on the piano bench, closed her eyes, and the first notes of the melody I had written, soft and a little melancholy, sounded.

"_I hid my wings in darkness,  
__And smiled away the tears,  
__I left my dreams in boxes  
__Turned dusty by the years._

_I locked my heart in silence  
__And threw away the key,  
__My eyes were cool and empty  
__And my mind was never free._

_I want to be a shooting star,  
__I want everyone to know me,  
__I want to be a shooting star,  
__I want everyone to see me,_

_Doesn't matter who we are,  
__Burning like a shooting star,  
__Falling from the sky,  
__I'll light away the darkness  
__To spread my wings and fly..._

_I'll push away the silence,  
__I'll shove away the chains,  
__I'll let my dreams roam free  
__Until no dust remains._

_I'll shine into the darkness,  
__Scare the shadows all away,  
__I'll sing my songs and give you  
__All the words I couldn't say._

_I want to be a shooting star,  
__I want everyone to know me,  
__I want to be a shooting star,  
__I want everyone to see me,_

_Doesn't matter who we are,  
__Burning like a shooting star,  
__Falling from the sky,  
__I'll light away the darkness  
__To spread my wings and fly..."_

Her voice was a little shaky at the end, and when she let the last unresolved seventh chord float to the back of the room before lifting her foot from the pedal, she wiped at her eyes. "So think about it, Tohma-kun," she said into the silence. "Because I really don't think you're stupid, and I can't do it without you." She bowed and hurried off the stage, leaving the audience in stunned silence.

The tight feeling around my heart was back, stronger now. I turned my head to discover Ryuichi-san was clutching the bunny tightly, his eyes big and shiny with tears. And that something around my heart got tighter, and I lifted my hand in surprise to feel a dampness on my cheeks.


	3. The Bunny Doctor

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Three: The Bunny Doctor**

* * *

Author's notes: I write too damn fast. I don't give people enough chance to review. And then I whine. I have such double standards… 

In this chapter, you have these things to look forward to: Thirteen-year-old Eiri's interest in people with pink hair, Tohma's imminent insanity, and, as the title suggests, the deathly illness of our favorite pink bunny. Oh, and Ryuichi sings for us for the very first time. And how…

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone you recognize. I own one of those toy keyboards though. They're annoyingly small.

* * *

To be perfectly honest, I didn't give in right away. "Let's wait until both of us graduate," I told her. "You'll finish high school this year, and I'll finish my degree, and then we'll look into it. I promise to think about it." 

So I thought about it. I thought about it as we floated through the last few months of school, still playing together Friday nights, except now I was called upon to bring in new pieces of music more and more often, and even though I knew Noriko-san was making plans inside that multi-colored head of hers, I couldn't bring myself to turn down her requests for new tunes. So I wrote, and we played, and the café owner blessed us as his custom went steadily up until he had to expand with a bigger room (he bought out the cosmetics shop next door) and a new, better-tuned piano.

We invited Ryuichi-san to come a few times, but his response was always the same. "But if I leave Kumagoro alone at night, he'll get lonely!"

"You mean if you leave your sisters… right Ryuichi-san?"

He would give me a weird look and reply slowly, as though speaking to a dim child, "No, Tohma! If I meant my sisters, I would say my sisters!" Then he would hug the bunny tightly as though someone had maligned it.

Eventually, I learned not to ask.

I moved that summer into a penthouse apartment nearer the center of town. In some ways, getting out of my parents' house was a relief. It wasn't as though I had done anything in particular to displease them, but I got strange looks from my mother after I had become more accustomed to Noriko-san's manner of dressing me—and tired of the times I wore my old clothes and she made me _buy_ new ones before we could go anywhere—and hooked headphones into my synthesizer, allowing me to play silently for hours. My apartment was a perfect refuge. I put my newly purchased baby grand on one side of the living room and my synthesizer on the other, then set the other furniture wherever it fit. It should have sent up red flags then that I cared more about my pianos than my bed, but I wasn't thinking too clearly then.

"I'm going to need a nice, large, established place," I had told my father. "I'll be marrying Mika-san in a few years, and it would be more comfortable for her if there was someplace to move to right away, don't you agree?"

So I got my penthouse with no complaint, even if Mika-san hadn't been the reason foremost in my mind.

Two days after I had moved in, there was a knock on my door at around six. When I opened it, I beheld Noriko-san with two bulging shopping bags. She breezed in, kissing me on the cheek, and walked into the kitchen as though she lived there (as I was to discover in the near future, she frequently did). "I brought you a housewarming gift, Tohma-kun!" she called. "So come in here and make your charming guest some tea."

So we drank tea with French éclairs, and she chattered about music. "I was thinking, we should pound out a few songs, and then look for a vocalist. I still don't think my voice is good enough," she said matter-of-factly, "and anyway, it should be a guy. That's more popular lately…" She took a sip of her tea. "What do you think?"

"I think I still haven't made up my mind about this," I said slowly.

She laughed and shook her head. Her hair was cotton-candy pink. "Oh, yes you have, Tohma-kun, you're just not ready to say it aloud yet."

I wasn't at all sure this was the case, but experience had taught me that one did not argue with Noriko-san.

"But if you like, we'll play it your way. Did you have any plans for tonight?" she asked.

"No," I said. "I had thought I would read and get to bed early, but I'm not particularly attached to the idea."

"Good," she said. "Then you can have no objection if I stay around for a while and play your piano, do you?"

"No, I suppose not…" I said carefully.

She hopped up. "Good," she said.

She didn't leave that night. By six in the morning, we had a song.

* * *

That was the way Noriko-san got around me. Whenever I had a free night, I found her at my door or, if I was coming home late, sitting in the stairwell, headphones in her ears and a notebook on her lap. Eventually I gave up and gave her a key, and after that I found her there so often I stopped fighting her shampoo's appearance in my bathroom and her pajamas folded in my linen closet. 

"You're just out of high school," I told her one night when she was lying on the floor, one of my throw pillows under her chin, staring intently at some concert on the television. "I'm sure your family thinks you're living with me."

She turned over and blew a bubble. It matched her hair. "So?" she said.

"It can't possibly be appropriate," I argued. "I'm getting married soon and you're only eighteen!"

"Nineteen in a week," she said calmly. "Besides, I'm not compromising my chastity. I'm sleeping on the couch, aren't I?"

I sighed. "Noriko-san, that is not the point."

"No, you're right," she said. "The point is music, and we have enough now that it's time to take the next step and find a singer to record a demo with us."

"Noriko-san-" I pleaded.

"No, Tohma-kun, let's stop fooling ourselves. You know you're going to do this." She looked into my eyes with the most piercing expression I had ever seen on her face. "This is your future. _Our_ future. Don't you feel it yet?" She clasped my hands in hers. "You will never be complete without this," she said slowly. "And if you hadn't already agreed, I would not be here, wasting my time with you. All right?"

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes before letting myself give a true answer. "All right."

I opened my eyes to see her grinning brightly. "Good boy," she said.

"I feel like I've been manipulated," I complained.

She tried to suppress her giggle. "You have. Now then-" There was a knock on the door. "I'll get it," she said immediately, hopping up. "No, you shouldn't bother. Watch the TV, will you? These guys are really rocking." She disappeared into the hall.

I tried to concentrate on the "rocking" guys when I heard a very familiar voice, rough with a recent adolescent voice change, saying, "Oh, I'm sorry, I must have the wrong apartment. Do you happen to know where Seguchi Tohma lives?"

"Eiri-kun!" I shouted, jumping up from the couch and running into the foyer.

The boy looked terrible. His eyes were shadowed as though he hadn't slept, and a duffel bag was slung over his shoulder. Those tired eyes widened when he saw me, barefoot, with my shirt (fuchsia today) unbuttoned due to the heat. "I… oh… Tohma-san," he said slowly. He looked askance at Noriko-san in her barely-present sundress. "I'll just… I'll come back some other-"

"Don't be silly, Eiri-kun," I said, realizing just how wrong all of this must look. "Come inside. This is Sakakura Noriko-san, my co-worker," I said, thinking fast. "Noriko-san, this is Eiri-kun, Mika-san's little brother." I shot her a warning look.

"Pleased to meet you, Eiri-kun!" Noriko-san said cheerfully. She turned to me as he muttered a greeting at her. "I'll make some lemonade," she said, and vanished into the kitchen.

Eiri-kun looked down at the floor as I wondered whether I should button my shirt, or if that would just make me look guiltier. "I'm sorry I came at a bad time…"

"No, no, no such thing as a bad time," I reassured him. "I'm glad to see you! Your family didn't call me to tell me you'd be coming."

He plopped down on the couch, gave a cursory look at the television, then turned his large golden eyes up at me. It shocked me to realize that at thirteen years old he was nearly my height. "They don't know." At my surprised look, he continued quickly, "Can't I just stay one night? Just a night and a day and we'll call them. Please?"

I smoothed his hair, a little uneasy at the hopeful look he gave me. "I suppose, Eiri-kun, if you need to." I had a fair idea it was school trouble again, but it must have been something else as well if he didn't want to call his father.

Noriko-san came in with two glasses of lemonade and wisely withdrew again after giving it to us. "Sorry… I'm such a bother."

"No, Eiri-kun, I told you not to worry about it," I said again. "I'm glad to have you. Want to tell me what's wrong?"

"Just…school, and everyone being so mean… and…" he paused, then sighed, "Tohma-san, I don't _want_ to be a monk." He leaned back into the couch cushions, looking malcontent. "How come everyone else is just fine with doing what their father does? You _like_ business."

"Well, yes…"

"But he's going into music," Noriko-san said, reappearing in the doorway and plopping down cross-legged on the floor.

"Music?" Eiri-kun said incredulously.

"Noriko-san!" I hissed.

"What?" she said innocently. "You've made up your mind, haven't you?" She looked at Eiri-kun. "He's made up his mind, and his father isn't going to be pleased. Isn't that right, Tohma-kun?"

"Really?" Eiri-kun asked. For some reason I couldn't understand, his eyes were brighter. I gave up, deciding Noriko-san, Ryuichi-san, and just about anyone else… were better at dealing with children than I would ever be.

"Something like that," I finally said. "I still fully intend to go on working for my father until you get us signed, you know."

"But then you'll quit and be a musician?" Eiri-kun wanted to know.

"I suppose I will," I said.

"And your father? Will he be furious?"

"Probably," I said with a sigh. "Eiri-kun, I don't know that I want you to follow my bad example."

"But even Mikarin says you're the perfect eldest son!" Eiri-kun said with a hint of teasing. "Wouldn't it follow I should be _just_ like you?"

"Don't be just like Tohma-kun," Noriko-san interrupted. "Tohma-kun is _far_ too straight-laced."

I glared at her mildly. "I'll thank you not to ruin the child," I said. "In any case, I'll call you a cab, since tonight the couch is clearly taken."

"I could sleep on the floor-" Eiri-kun began to offer.

"No, don't bother," Noriko-san said. "We need to work on this vocalist problem before we move on, anyway. Don't bother about the cab, either." She blew Eiri-kun a kiss. "I'll see myself out. Have a nice night." She vanished into the hall, and a moment later I heard the door slam.

"So she really does work with you," Eiri-kun said.

"In a manner of speaking," I replied. "It's all… it's very complicated."

"Is she the one you told me about before? With the blue hair?"

"Yes," I laughed. "Well, it's pink now, as you can clearly see."

"Yeah," he agreed, then grinned. "It's a pretty color for hair. I didn't think it would be."

My smile was easy now. "Yes, well, Noriko-san is Noriko-san. She's made odder things work."

* * *

Somehow, Eiri-kun's stay stretched to nearly a week. By the time he could no longer talk me out of calling his father I had taken pity on him, and talked Uesugi-san into letting him have a week off from school. "He's very tired, Uesugi-san," I said into the phone. "He could use just a little rest. No… no, I'm sure he's no trouble at all. And I'll talk to him about catching up in his classes. I'm sure he'll be all right." So Eiri-kun stayed. 

I found I enjoyed his company quite a bit more than I expected. Something about his slight sarcasm and his golden eyes appealed to me. He seemed to be just as comfortable with me, probably because two blonds walking together, one dressed with the typical Noriko flare, somehow drew attention away from him.

When I had to leave for work in the mornings, I left him with the run of the house, and he proved worthy of the responsibility by not destroying it. On the fourth day, I found him on the phone, clearly trying to calm someone down. "Yes, yes, I'll tell him to call. I'm sure he'll call right away. All right. Yes." He looked up then. "Oh, here he is no—oh, never mind, I guess he hung up." He put the phone back in its cradle.

I looked at him curiously. "Who were you arguing with?"

"A madman, I think," he said candidly. "Someone named… Ryu-chan wanted me to tell you that someone named…" his lips twitched in a smile, "Kumagoro was very sick, and he wants you to come over and do something about it." Seeing my half-embarrassed, half-bewildered look, he added, "You have some interesting friends, Tohma-san. This one sounded like he was five. And what kind of a name is Kumagoro?"

"A name for someone with pink hair," I muttered. "You'd approve, Eiri-kun." I stared at the phone, wondering where Ryuichi-san had gotten my phone number. I finally concluded that Noriko-san had given it to him, and spent a few minutes wrestling my conscience before I decided it really would be rude not to call back. I sighed and picked up the phone, hitting the call return button.

Before one whole beep had gone by, Ryuichi-san snatched up the phone. "Ryu-chan here!" he cried out so loudly that I had to hold the phone a bit away from my ear. "Tohma, Tohma! Is that you, Tohma? Tohma!"

Eiri-kun was looking very amused in the corner, so I took the phone and retreated into the kitchen. "Yes, Ryuichi-san, this is Tohma," I finally said. "My… friend says you called me." I couldn't even begin to explain something as complicated as Eiri-kun and Mika-san to Ryuichi-san.

"Yes, and he was super nice!" Ryuichi-san said cheerfully. "But Tohma, you have to come right away! Kumagoro is sick!"

"What is wrong with him?" I said, trying to be rational. I heard feminine giggles in the background, quickly suppressed.

Ryuichi-san was quiet for a moment, then spoke once again in that voice that called me a great big idiot for not seeing his logic right away. "Well, of course _I _don't know! I'm not a bunny doctor!" he announced.

"But neither am I," I said, still trying to be rational. I would learn, eventually, that logic and rationality did not fit well with Ryuichi-san, but one couldn't really blame me for trying.

"But Tohma finished that… biiiiiiiiig school!" Ryuichi-san said earnestly. "So Tohma is a genius and Tohma can do anything!"

"I'm not sure I'm qualified-"

"Tohma! Kumagoro might _die!_" I heard definite tears in his voice, sighed, and gave in to the inevitable.

"All right, all right. I'll be right over."

"Bring your friend too!" Ryuichi-san said, all sign of tears gone.

I thought about the insanity spreading. I shuddered. "No, Ryuichi-san, my friend has a very weak immune system, and I'm afraid he might get what Kumagoro has, and I'm not a very good people doctor," I said very seriously.

"But I didn't think people could get bunny diseases!" Ryuichi protested.

"This one can," I assured him. "It's all right. He'll be glad to stay at home."

"If you say so, Tohma," Ryuichi-san said. "But hurry!"

"I'm hurrying," I said. "Really. I've already got my car keys in my pocket."

"Okay! See you soon na no da!" Ryuichi-san hung up.

With a sigh, I headed out of the kitchen and towards the door. "Eiri-kun," I called. Immediately he stuck his head out of the living room. "I'm going to have to go for a little while… I'll take you out to dinner later to make it up to you, all right?"

"Kumagoro just can't get better without you?" the boy asked with a smirk.

"Apparently not," I said dryly.

* * *

The drive to Ryuichi-san's was nearly an hour, made worse by afternoon traffic. By the time I had arrived at the tall concrete building and climbed seven flights of stairs (the elevator was out) I was feeling more than a little annoyed. Which didn't last long when the door was flung open by Akane-chan, who proceeded to fling her arms around my neck and sob into my coat. "Kumagoro is siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick!" 

By the time I had managed to stagger into the miniscule entrance hall, Midori-chan was hanging off my leg, also wailing. I began to doubt my own sanity.

"All right, all right, where is he? Where is your oniisan?" And they dragged me after them into the tiny living room.

There I discovered Noriko-san, sitting on the floor and plying a needle with the concentration of a brain surgeon, while Ryuichi-san, Rie-san and Kiriko-chan crowded around her and made comforting noises. "Kumagoro, hang on!" Ryuichi-san was wailing. "It will only hurt for a moment, and then you will be all better!"

When I got near enough (with two little girls hanging off of me, this was still rather difficult), I saw that Noriko-san was tying and then biting off the thread she had used to sew the bunny's ear back on. "There," she said soothingly. "Doesn't that feel better, Kumagoro? Good as new!"

"Tohma!" Ryuichi shouted, noticing my presence for the first time. "Noriko-chan got here before you, and she turned out to be a really good bunny doctor! Look!" He thrust the newly-patched rabbit at me. "See, congratulate him! He got through surgery!"

"Congratulations, Kumagoro," I said, feeling the urge to laugh hysterically and suppressing it viciously. "I'm glad you feel better." _Why_ had I made the drive through rush hour traffic?

"Rie-chan, you should make some tea for our friends since they're here!" Ryuichi-san said cheerfully. "And make some for Okaasan!"

When Rie-san bustled away into the kitchen and everything got a tiny bit quieter, I finally looked around. I had been to the building before, but I had never come up into the apartment. As I suspected it was small and rather shabby, but scrupulously clean. "I'm so glad you came, Tohma!" Ryuichi-san chirped, plopping on the tiny couch next to me. "You must really have been worried about Kumagoro! I'm glad you're such good friends!"

Actually, I had been far more worried about Ryuichi-san, but I chose to keep that to myself. Akane-chan, who had wandered out of the room, came back in and said, "Mama is sleeping again."

For a moment, I saw a look of worry and pain on Ryuichi-san's face before he quickly masked it. "Well, tiptoe and don't wake her," he told Akane-chan. "Okaasan needs sleep."

"All right, Oniichan," Akane-chan said, clearly unaware that anything was wrong. She left the room again on her tiptoes, and she and Rie-san returned a few minutes later with two trays laden with cups of green tea and misshapen lumps that may have been cupcakes.

"These muffins look a lot better, Akane-chan!" Noriko-san praised. Well, cupcakes, muffins. I was close. "Did you take my advice?" Clearly she, at least, had been here quite often. Midori-chan crawled into her lap.

"Yeah, uh-huh, I'll never make muffins in the microwave in a plastic container again," Akane-chan said vehemently. "Because then they explode and the plastic melts and it smells like burning things in the house for two days."

"Three," Kiriko-chan disagreed. "It only stopped smelling yesterday." She sniffed experimentally at the air which, come to think of it, did smell a little singed. "Sort of."

Once the tea ritual was over (the muffins had been surprisingly edible despite their appearance) and the three older girls had run off to the kitchen to clean up, the little one pulled a battered pink tape player with a plastic microphone attached to it. "Wanna play karaoke, Tohma-oniichan?"

"Play karaoke?" I said, not quite understanding.

"Sure! Don't you like to sing?"

"No, I don't really sing," I told her. Seeing she was upset, I quickly added, "Oh, but I play the piano, though!"

"Oh, we have one of those!" she said. She ran out and came back moments later lugging an old toy keyboard behind her. Even if it was small, with keys more narrow than a piano's, it was still almost the same size as her. Noriko-san jumped up to help her with it, and plopped it down in my lap. I turned it on, and played the first few tinny notes of _Sakura_.

"No, Oniichan," Midori-chan said, all exasperation. "Even Kumagoro can sing _that_ song!"

"What do you want me to play?" I asked her patiently.

"How about… _White Rain!_" she said. It seemed her expectations were a bit high; that song was fast paced and the range jumped all over the place, but she looked good and determined, and I decided it didn't really matter and began to play. She picked up the little toy microphone and lisped along for a while, but, sure enough, got tangled up in the words halfway through the first verse.

While I vamped the same chord progression over and over, waiting for her to pick it up, Ryuichi-san shook his head and took the microphone. "No, Midori-chan," he said, "I told you when I taught you this song. The words go like _this_."

And I got the biggest surprise of my life.

His voice was loud, clear, and so beautiful my hands froze over the keys for a moment before I realized I had to keep playing, or he would stop singing. The quick tempo didn't seem to stop him. He jumped into it with a verve so great I found myself almost struggling to keep up on the uncomfortably small keyboard. The range didn't seem to be a problem, either. He took the leaps so effortlessly, it really did begin to seem an easy song for a five-year-old to learn, as Midori-chan nodded cheerfully along, clearly not witnessing the miracle we were. Noriko-san's mouth had dropped open with shock. Clearly unaware of all of this, Ryuichi-san sang, the slightly dark lyrics taking on a sheen of desperation. His eyes were closed, and he looked nothing like himself.

I played the last chords of the song and he let the last note fade away. He opened his eyes, and for a minute he looked perfectly serious, and I could believe he was twenty-two for the first time since I had met him. Then his eyes cleared, and he looked just like himself again. "Like _that_ Midori-chan," he told his little sister, and handed her the microphone. "All right?"

The two of us were still staring at him like he had grown an extra head. Noticing our silence, he finally looked back towards us. Noriko-san gave me a meaningful look, but it was lost on me, as I was still staring at Ryuichi-san, disbelieving that _that_ had just come out of _him_.

He stared at me, then at Noriko-san for a few moments. Finally he said, "What? Why do you look like that? Do you have a stomach ache?"

And I couldn't help myself. All the laughter I had been holding inside, edged with hysteria, burst out.

I had lost my mind, after all.


	4. Family Affairs

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Four: Family Affairs**

* * *

Author's notes: This chapter seems to have taken on the role of something like a filler before the true insanity of chapter five and beyond. Still, I like it, because Noriko-san (and pocky) make anything happy and thirteen-year-old Eiri-kun is adorable. Tohma's sort of in limbo, but you get to see his emotions developing more with every word. Well, and Ryuichi quoting bad soap operas is just… oh dear.

In other notes… it seems you people know me too well, even the ones I've never met before. You realize, of course, that bribing me with a Kuma plushie is the surefire way to get me to do whatever you say, ne? Ne? Anyone who actually makes me one has a lifelong worshipful servant :sweatdrop:

Thank you for reviews! Keep reviewing!

Disclaimer: I still don't own anyone you recognize. However, the muffins Akane-chan burned in the last chapter belong to my little sister Sasha, who really _did _try to make muffins in the microwave in a plastic container a week ago… :sniff: Yes, it still sort of smells.

* * *

It took some considerable time to convince Ryuichi-san that not only did we not have upset stomachs, but neither of us had caught Kumagoro's mysterious ailment and were not now in need of bunny medicine (whatever that was). By the time Ryuichi-san was calmed, the older girls (and Kumagoro) were in the next room playing a very noisy game, Midori-chan had fallen asleep in Noriko-san's lap and Kiriko-chan, to my slight discomfort, was nodding off in mine. To my great surprise, I found I was enjoying myself anyway. Something about Ryuichi-san was completely refreshing, maybe because he was the complete antithesis of the cool, impersonal people I had grown up around.

"You're a fantastic singer, Ryu-chan," Noriko-san said, absently hitting a few tinny notes on the toy piano, playing with one of the melodies we had put together the week before.

Ryuichi-san beamed. "Ryu-chan loves to sing!" he proclaimed. "Ryu-chan loves to sing more than anything in the world except Rie-chan and Akane-chan and Kiriko-chan and Midori-chan! And Kumagoro," he added. "Singing makes Ryu-chan feel happy and shiny shiny!"

Despite the odd wording, his meaning and the emotions behind it were very clear. He beamed at me. "Just like playing the piano makes Tohma happy and shiny shiny! Shiny! Right?" I wondered if anything could be that shiny, but I nodded anyway. "And Noriko-chan too!" Ryuichi-san continued blithely. "But Noriko-chan is always shiny!"

I suppressed a very impolite snort. "Exceedingly," I agreed.

"Why does your… face change when you sing?" Noriko-san asked at last. "I mean, you look different." That was the question I had not dared to ask, not quite sure how to word it. The personality change had been more than a little eerie.

"Different?" Ryuichi-san repeated, looking confused. Then his eyes cleared up. "Oh! Well, the words aren't happy, so if I look happy, I look wrong, right?" he said. "You see people on TV, and they look so sad when they're talking to each other, like, 'Oh, Hiei-san, how could you leave me!'" he suddenly cried out. "And then the girl bursts into tears! And the mean man hugs her and she's crying and it's raining and she looks so sad! You know that one, right Tohma?" I looked at him dumbly, knowing the number of such shows ranked at least in the hundreds. "But really, she's happy and shiny on the inside! It's just, it would look wrong if she showed it on her face. Right?"

It took me a moment to digest the fact that the unbelievable presence I had felt from his singing had developed from watching second-rate soap operas. "So… you're acting?" I asked. "I mean… pretending?"

Ryuichi-san nodded happily. "Mhmm! I'm really really god at playing pretend! I play with Kumagoro all the time!"

Of course he did.

"Ryu-chan, would you please, _please_ come play with us Friday night?" Noriko-san said. "Please! Tohma-kun and I could play for you again and you could sing and make lots and lots of people shiny and happy! Everyone would be really happy to meet you!"

Ryuichi-san looked doubtful. "But Kumagoro will be lonely if I-"

I got a bright idea. "Kumagoro is invited too," I quickly added.

I was rewarded with a bright smile from Ryuichi-san. "Oh, he'll be so happy you asked!" he cried. "Kumagoro was beginning to think you didn't like him!"

Noriko-san looked at me like I had lost my mind. Come to think of it, I rather had, but at least I now had a fair idea of how to handle Ryuichi-san's… creative take on reality. "We'd love to have Kumagoro," I said. "I never knew he wanted to go."

"Of course I want to play!" Ryuichi-san responded immediately. "I always want to play with my friends. Let's play another game now."

"I have to go home and feed my… friend," I said firmly, realizing I could be dragged into just about anything if I didn't make this point now. "He's probably hungry."

"Is Eiri-kun still over?" Noriko-san asked, gently stroking Midori-chan's hair.

"I'm putting him on the Shinkansen in two days," I told her. "Uesugi-san won't let him miss more than a week of school." I thought about how likely Eiri-kun was to just run away again if I simply put him on a train unsupervised. "Or maybe I'll just take a day off and drive to Kyoto," I sighed.

"And you say you don't understand how children think," Noriko-san smirked.

"All I have to do is think of you," I told her, smiling sweetly.

"If that was supposed to be an insult, it fell very flat," she informed me.

"Nothing insulting about the truth," I parried.

Ryuichi-san had been looking at each of us in turn, as though he was watching a tennis match, looking more and more distressed. "Are Tohma and Noriko-chan fighting?" he asked.

"No," Noriko was quick to assure him, just as I said, "Maybe."

"You're confusing," Ryuichi-san complained. "Ryu-chan is going to get a headache."

I barely kept in a teasing comment about bunny medicine being the perfect cure.

* * *

Noriko-san and I left soon after. As we were walking down the stairs, I remarked, "Well, as long as we can keep him in line, I think you just got your wish." Actually, I was unreasonably excited about playing with Ryuichi-san again. He had such unbelievable energy around him, no matter what he was doing, but it more than doubled when he sang, and was extraordinarily appealing on some basic level, even if it did tire me out. It was the reason I found I enjoyed his company despite the fact that he should have annoyed me.

Noriko-san gave me a sideways look. "Looks like you can keep him in line by yourself just fine. Sometimes even _I_ don't know what to say to him. Where did that come from?"

"Simple," I told her. "I take you, take away the pink hair and suspend any hope at logic."

"There's more to him than meets the eye, you know," she told me, leaning against the side of my car. "He's been raising those kids practically single-handedly for about five years now. He's got to be more together than he seems."

"What about their mother?" I asked. It had seemed a little odd she hadn't come out to greet her guests…

"I don't think that's Ryu-chan's mother," Noriko-san said. "I think that the little ones are his half sisters, and their father must be gone. From what I can gather, their mother's been sick since she had Midori-chan, so Ryu-chan is mother, father, and brother all in one." She grinned. "And not only does he manage it, he manages to _enjoy_ it. Can't always trust what you see."

"You spend a lot of time with him," I told her.

"Just lately. I didn't want to scare Eiri-kun any worse than I already had by showing up at dawn with a box of mochi balls." She patted my cheek. "Why, jealous that Ryu-chan gets your piko piko Noriko-chan all to himself? Don't worry, I still love you."

"Oh, no, not at all. I just want a stuffed bunny too," I said, all seriousness.

Her laughter followed me as I got into my car and headed out to take Eiri-kun to dinner.

* * *

Somehow, Noriko-san weaseled her way into my drive to Kyoto on Thursday. "You'll be bored coming back," she pointed out. "And it's a long drive. I doubt Eiri-kun will really care."

She was right; he didn't seem to. He was subdued when I loaded him into the car just past dawn, but he did manage to dredge up a ghost of a smile when Noriko-san sped into the garage on a bicycle with its basket overflowing with bags of snacks and a few cassette tapes. "You need a car," I told her as she slid into the back seat, leaving the front for Eiri-kun. "It can't be less than two hours from here by bicycle."

"The weather's nice," she said flippantly. "Besides, I count on you and Ryu-chan to provide the funds to get me one by next year." She grinned wickedly. "Ne, Tohma-kun? Unless you want to buy me one out of your personal savings now? Oniichan would _really_ kill you then."

I looked back in the rearview mirror as she noisily opened a package of potato chips. "No," I mused, "with the amount of junk you eat, it's better if you ride. _Something _has to keep you in shape for the stage." She threw a chip at me. "Litter in my car again, and you're out on the road," I warned her. "Walking."

"He's so mean," Noriko-san complained to Eiri-kun. "How do all of you put up with it?"

"He's only this way around you," Eiri-kun countered cheekily, turning around and stealing a chip from her bag. "He says you're a bad influence."

"Terrible," I agreed stoically. "Absolutely awful."

"I'll take that as the compliment it was meant," Noriko-san said. "Tohma-kun's life would be… dreary without me."

"Note that I never asked to be livened up," I pointed out. We drove in laughter.

We stopped in a small town for lunch, which I wisely purchased myself, not trusting Noriko-san to think of nutrition. Eiri-kun seemed relaxed and cheerful, but as we neared Kyoto, became quiet, clutching his duffel bag and looking resigned. To cover his silence and mine (which was habitual) Noriko-san chattered enough for both of us. I was surprised her voice wasn't gone by the time we entered Kyoto, but she barely took the time to breathe.

"I'll get out here," she suddenly said while I stood at a red light, and hopped out of the car. "If you're not here by five, I'll send out the search and rescue team!" she shouted as the light turned green and I was forced to drive away.

Eiri-kun watched the small pink-haired figure wave enthusiastically from the corner. "Will she be all right?" He asked.

"I'm sure she'll have the time of her life and whine to stay a night and sightsee," I told him. "She's pretty much self-sufficient."

"Is this her way of making sure my family doesn't see her?" Eiri-kun asked, mirroring my thoughts. He grinned. "Mikarin might be awfully jealous. We should have taken her."

"Not a good idea," I cut off shortly. "Family is family. Noriko-san was right to go."

"We're not family yet," Eiri-kun said, giving me a look I couldn't read.

"One more year," I said, feeling distinctly uncomfortable with this line of conversation. Following the directions I had memorized this morning I turned right. "Then you'll have one more brother telling you what to do."

Eiri-kun shuddered. "At least Tatsuha isn't old enough to start that yet." He sighed as we pulled into view of the temple. "You won't be as bad as the rest of them, right, Tohma-san?"

I didn't know what answer to give him.

* * *

I spent three hours in the Uesugi house, most of it drinking tea and defending Eiri-kun to Uesugi-san and Mika-san, both of whom were displeased with his behavior. "He's only a child," I said, turning my teacup before taking a drink. Mika-san, who had obviously prettied herself up in her best kimono, only sighed and poured more tea.

"He's going to have to learn responsibility sooner than most children his age," Uesugi-san said. "You should understand, Seguchi-san. He's the eldest, and I may not have long to live." He looked in robust good health to me, but I said nothing. "If he's rebellious like this now, I won't be able to control him at all in a few years."

"Why don't _you_ talk to him, Tohma-san?" Mika-san asked, clearly pleased with her idea. "He certainly seems to like and trust you." Probably because I hadn't yet told him to stay quiet and do what he was told. "At least to get him to start going to school instead of skipping out. The only subject he has satisfactory marks in is Japanese."

"I can talk to him about that," I agreed. It was true that I felt more than sympathetic towards Eiri-kun, but that, at least, really had to stop. However miserable he was, failing school was not a reasonable way to deal with it. "He should pass his high school entrance exams, of course."

Uesugi-san beamed as though I had magically solved all of his problems. "There would be no problem if you could only get the child to do as he's told," he said, as though this was a certain thing. "I will not have him growing up like the youth of today. This family, as I'm sure you understand, is grounded in tradition."

"Of course," I repeated.

* * *

I did get a chance to talk to Eiri-kun right before I had to leave to meet Noriko-san. He listened to me with a frown, but at least he was listening. "This will not do, Eiri-kun," I told him sternly. "Even if you don't want to be a monk, failing out of junior high is not the alternative."

He looked perilously close to pouting. "I don't like the others. And class is boring."

I felt my eyes narrow and caught myself very nearly furious, something that had never happened before. "We all had to go through it," I cut him off. "So do you."

He sighed in an all-suffering manner that said all too clearly that I was sounding just like his father.

"Listen," I said, forcefully softening my voice, "I know it's unpleasant. But if you _don't_ at least finish high school, you really will have no choice but to do what your father tells you for the rest of your life. At least learn to stand on your own two feet before you rebel."

"And then it's all right?" he said, challenging.

"Then it's your business," I said, not wanting to give a straight answer to a dangerous question. "Not mine."

Eiri-kun studied me for a moment. "Why are you so different around them and around, oh, say Noriko-san? Or even me?"

"It's a matter of compromise," I told him. It was true; for the past year I had been teetering on the fine line between proper behavior and betrayal of my father's trust. Sooner or later, I knew I would have to step over the line, but I hoped to do it in a way that did not cause too much strife within the family. "Once you've gotten where I am, you'll understand."

"And to get where you are, I have to go to school like a good boy," he grumbled.

"That's right," I said, and stood. "I have to go. Please… call me any time. But don't run away again. I won't be able to be nearly as lenient the next time I find you on my doorstep, and I can't keep fighting your battles if you keep failing." I paused at the door before speaking. "Listen… I'll make you a deal. If you get into a good high school, I'll see what I can do about getting them to let you go study abroad." He looked surprised. "Far away from your father, and somewhere no one will care about your hair color. Are we in agreement?"

For the first time since early that afternoon, I was rewarded with a grin. "Agreed."

* * *

"He practically hero-worships you, you know," Noriko-san said after we had exchanged greetings and gotten back into the car. She opened yet another bag of junk food she must have bought at some point during the afternoon. "He doesn't seem like a bad kid."

"Our opinions on well-behaved children will never meet, Noriko-san," I said, steering through jammed roads.

"Whatever your opinion, that's just a normal teenage boy," she insisted. "And he'd do just about anything for you. He didn't complain once today."

"Let's hope he _does_ do what I tell him," I said tensely. "He's going to get himself into a great deal of trouble if he doesn't realize he had better." I slanted a look at her. "And not the kind of trouble you'd approve of, Noriko-san. It would be… much worse than you can imagine if he failed to get into high school. His following or not following in his father's footsteps has nothing to do with it."

She only leaned back in her seat and smiled. "You're only arguing so hard because you like him."

"I am perhaps more sympathetic towards him than I should be," I said. "Which is yet another reason I want a future for him. I'm having a difficult time trying to understand him."

"That's right. Tohma-kun was never a teenage rebel."

"No," I agreed. "Eiri-kun should realize soon that doing what you're told takes a lot less effort. He should save his effort for the things that are really important, instead of rushing into battle over everything."

She only giggled. "Why, Tohma-kun, that almost sounded wise."

"Eat your pocky and be quiet," I told her, but not without affection.

* * *

We got back to Tokyo in the small hours of the morning, Noriko-san dozing in the front seat. Whatever I tried, I couldn't rouse her, so I had to carry her up to my apartment and dump her on the couch before dosing myself with espresso, changing my clothing, and leaving for work. By the time I had slogged through what had to be done that day and dumped the rest on one of the secretaries, it was just past noon. I got home in a state of utter exhaustion to discover Noriko-san was still asleep on the couch, blissfully unaware that half a day had gone by.

I shook her shoulder. "I would like to point out to a certain freeloader that a true friend would have arranged lunch," I said. When I knew she was awake, I locked myself in the shower. By the time I was out and dressed, the house smelled like food, and a guilty-looking Noriko was setting miso soup and a cup of tea on the table.

I was surprised; I had been sure she would order out. "Be careful, or I'll become accustomed to you acting domestic," I warned her, sitting at the table. The food was perhaps not the best I had ever eaten, but it felt wonderful not to have to do it myself. "I might make you do this every time you stay here."

"You wouldn't," she disagreed. "You'd realize I could poison you in retaliation. I've been known to do such things in the past." She poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot on the counter.

"I want coffee too," I said, barely stifling a yawn.

"No coffee for you," she said, putting her own cup out of my reach as though I would try to take it. "Eat your soup and go to sleep."

"I have to…" come to think of it, I didn't really remember what I had to do. "I have to do… something. It will come to me." I looked at her pleadingly. "Coffee," I repeated. "Coffee is a necessity if I want to have a job and keep up with you."

"You have to sleep so you can perform tonight," she said severely, and shoved the hateful cup of tea into my hand. "No coffee for you."

"But Noriko-san-"

"No. Ryu-chan is coming tonight. Remember?"

"But I need-"

"Sleep," she finished for me. "You look dead. If you don't get sleep, I'll have to use concealer on your pretty face." She glared at me to back up this threat.

I gave up, ate my soup, drank my tea, and collapsed into bed half-dressed. I was asleep before Noriko-san came in and covered me with a blanket and closed the curtains.

* * *

She had been right, damn her. I felt like a new person when I woke up at eight to the sound of my piano being played. It was a melody I had been toying with a few days ago, and far from complete. Noriko-san must have been playing from my initial scribbles.

I wandered out into the living room to discover she was dressed in something that might have been a dress before it lost half of its fabric with her hair loose and curly around her face. She grinned, continuing to play. "Good morning!" she said.

"It's eight in the evening," I pointed out, leaning against the piano.

"I couldn't tell from looking at you," she parried. "Your shirt is all wrinkled and your hair looks like a bird's nest. You'll need to change." She came to the end of what I had written and frowned. "This one will be really good. We should finish it soon."

"It needs work," I told her. I looked out of the window at the darkening sky. "I can't believe you let me sleep half the day."

"I was just returning the favor," she said. "There's pizza in the kitchen if you want it, and coffee." Clearly, her domesticity had been short lived and she had had dinner delivered. "Wear something colorful!" she called after me as I headed for the kitchen.

As if I owned anything that wasn't, anymore.

Once I had eaten, she pulled out a bottle of gel and began doing things to my hair, to my great chagrin. "Is my hair next?" I asked her. "Are you going to make me dye it pink too? Or shave it?"

"No," she said, looking at me critically. "The blond suits you. I just want you to look a little less like a businessman. It's getting long enough to be stylish now."

"You never fussed with my hair before," I pointed out.

"Today is big for us," she said. "Huge. Trust me."

I couldn't deny that the same thought had occurred to me. Playing for Ryuichi-san's impromptu performance had been nothing short of enlightening. Imagining what we could do if all three of us were on the stage together was dizzying. There really was something very nearly magical about him. "We're playing for the same crowd we've played for for years," I pointed out, trying to sound indifferent.

"But today we're playing with Ryu-chan." She looked over her handiwork, then nodded and handed me the latest in a line of black hats. "This should do it."

"Even if we are singing with Ryuichi-san, everyone has certainly seen my hair before," I said, but I put the hat on. I had developed rather a fondness for hats.

"And you're every bit as excited as I am," she said cheerfully, zipping up her tall boots. I picked up my car keys from the end table by the door, but she caught the slight widening of my eyes in surprise. "I can read you by now. You just don't like showing your excitement."

I relaxed and smiled. "If I wasn't looking forward to playing with you tonight, I would have already kicked out of my house," I pointed out.

"Exactly," she said. "He's really something, isn't he, Tohma-kun?"

"Yes," I agreed, telling the absolute truth. "I've never seen anything like it before." I picked up the leather folder I had taken to carrying sheet music in.

She tucked her arm into mine as we left the apartment and headed for an elevator. "Me neither," she said. "It's stunning."

"Yes," I agreed again. "My business sense tells me that between our songs and Ryuichi-san's voice, there is an extremely marketable product." She grinned up at me. "At least, if Ryuichi-san himself decides he likes singing for an audience."

Noriko-san burst out laughing. "Once he gets a taste of it, the only way to get him to stop will be to pry the microphone out of his cold, dead fingers."

"It's times like these when I find it reassuring that you are so frequently right." I opened the door of the car for her. "At least, when it comes to human nature."

"Frequently?" she asked, slipping into the passenger side. "Please, be honest. I'm _always_ right."

"And stunningly modest," I said, coming around and getting in on my side. I turned the key and started the car.

"Well, you can keep your business sense," she said. "That's not my forte. But my heart tells me that even without business, we've found something special. It's not business that makes my music. It's not just business for you, either." With a carefree laugh, Noriko-san rolled her window all the way down and closed her eyes as the wind picked up with the speed of the car and the radio, turned up almost painfully loud, pounded. "It's going to be a beautiful night, Tohma-kun," she sang out, pitching her voice loud enough to be heard over the music.


	5. Spiraling Upward

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Five: Spiraling Upward**

* * *

Author's notes: Ooh, what a chapter, what a chapter indeed! We get all the way from the group's very first performance as a trio to the infamous Ruido concert, and the chapter is jam-packed full of Grasper-y goodness (yes, by the way, the band name will be officially acquired shortly). As if that weren't enough to excite you, we have the very first appearance of our favorite gun-toting blond… though here he doesn't have a gun, but rather a set of lock picks…

The fragments of the lyrics for the song Ryuichi sings are indeed part of a full song, another one of mine. I picked out some random lines to add to the ambience… I'm not likely to post full song lyrics, like _Shooting Star_, again unless you guys really want me to… if you do, I can probably be convinced to release a special omake-type chapter with lots of song lyrics.

And Omigod, you owe me a Kumagoro XD

Disclaimer: No one you recognize is mine. If you don't believe me, I'll send Mr. K to your house with a rifle to prove it to you… I mean…

* * *

Unlike me, Noriko-san really understood people. Rather, I understood how their minds worked, but she understood the workings of their hearts. It was one of the reasons we were as close as we were; she knew exactly what to say to me to put me at my ease, and she knew just how to broaden the borders of what was comfortable until I was not sure what I would do without her anymore. That was why I always trusted her judgment above my own where people were concerned.

She had been right to pull me down on the piano bench next to her that very first Friday, and she had been right too many times to count since then, mostly when it was my well-trained mind that was wrong.

She was right that night, as she would later gloat, for the moment that Ryuichi-san picked up a real microphone, there was a sort of light in his eyes that was different even from what I had seen before, as though a missing part of himself had just been returned. My fingers cramped, and Noriko-san and I took turns playing after it became obvious at one in the morning that no one was going to leave. We were both exhausted, but Ryuichi-san only had to smile and lift the microphone to his lips, and somehow, we would play again.

He didn't put it down all night.

The fact that at the end of the night, Noriko-san and I found ourselves in the role of bodyguards as every female in the establishment swarmed him was perhaps not surprising. Ryuichi-san had reverted to his cheerful and energetic self once the microphone had been pried forcibly away, and was hugging Kumagoro with an expression that clearly stated that he did not understand why he was being mobbed. By the time we got him into my car it was nearly dawn, and I was beginning to think he must be either entirely simpleminded or a genius somewhere under the childlike veneer.

But I was smiling all the way to his house, and it wasn't an indifferent smile, but the kind that crept up onto my face and stayed there of its own volition. When he bounced out of the car at very nearly dawn, I felt more awake than I could explain away with the numerous cups of coffee I had consumed in the night. "Again!" Ryuichi-san called before entering his building. "I want to do it again! And again and again and again!"

And because he wasn't the only one to feel that way, we did, again and again, Saturday mornings in my apartment and nights in the café, then a local club that Noriko-san had found that was in need of some late night entertainment, then a slightly bigger club with a slightly bigger audience… Again and again, but every time was different, because every time it was almost new.

So Ryuichi-san learned how to read music, and Noriko-san learned how to arrange it… but most importantly of all, I think, I learned how to laugh.

* * *

My family chose this magical time in my life to inform me of their displeasure. "You have been neglecting your duties considerably, Tohma," my father told me when I had been called into his office about a month after all of this had started. "I've been lenient because despite your… hobby… you've been keeping up, but clearly that is no longer the case." He glared at me from behind his enormous desk, set on a platform raised a bit above the floor to cleverly give him the appearance of power. He was a powerful-looking man even without it, unlike me. I took heavily after my mother, having inherited only my clear green eyes from my father. At the moment, those eyes were challenging.

"I have simply found my calling, so sitting at a desk giving orders doesn't seem quite so important anymore," I said, feeling oddly detached and not at all nervous. "I haven't been doing anything a well-trained assistant couldn't handle, and you'll be head of the firm for years to come."

Clearly, he wasn't as calm as I was, for he seemed very near to standing and pitching me out of the window. "I will not have insolence from you!" he said through gritted teeth. "You do not need to find your calling, because your calling has been here since the day you were born. You're an adult now; it's time you stopped playing like a child."

It occurred to me that had he said the same things to me five years ago, before Noriko-san, I would have obediently bowed to his will. "I disagree," I said instead. "If I have found something I am better at, it seems only logical to pursue it."

He did stand now, and slammed his fist on his desk. "I have let this go on _far_ too long," he stated. "You will not see these people again, and you will take more hours here to assure you are too busy to think about music. Take responsibility for your life."

"I'm afraid I can't acquiesce," I told him, still icy calm. "If I have to officially quit instead of talking this out, I will do so, if you would only give me the paperwork." I reached out my hand. "Well?"

We regarded each other with the closest to open hostility that we had ever come in my twenty-three years of life. Finally, he sat, and his voice was as cold as mine. "You're free to quit as you like, of course." Even his smile was cold. "I will warn you that you will have a hard time supporting yourself without the company paying you a far from average stipend. I have been more than generous, but since you seem inclined to toss it all in my face…"

I had thought about it, and done a few calculations. I had enough saved to live at least a year at the same level of comfort I had now. Noriko-san didn't intend our breakthrough to take a year. She said she sensed we were on the verge of something, and because it was her I believed in her. We had come too far not to.

My smile was as frigid as his. "I think I can manage, but I thank you for your concern."

"What am I going to tell Uesugi-san?" he finally said after another moment of staring at me in silence.

"Nothing, of course," I replied immediately. "I don't see any reason to call off the engagement and shame my family, unless you're planning on disowning me, naturally. Are you?"

He only stared at me as though I was someone completely different from the son he knew. Perhaps I was; the biddable child had somehow turned into a man with an iron will, and I was no less surprised than he that it was this easy to stand up to the man in whose shadow I had stood my entire life. "Uesugi-san will not give his only daughter to a pauper."

"Fortunately for Uesugi-san, I don't intend to be a pauper." With a formal bow, I headed towards the door. "I will be out of my office by noon."

* * *

"Tohma has lots more free time now," Ryuichi-san said in satisfaction a week later. It was a sunny day just on the brink of fall, and he had talked me into accompanying him and his sisters to the park. "I'm happy I get to see more of you." He beamed at me, all friendly goodwill.

In a move so habitual by now that I didn't even think about it, I snatched up Midori-chan before she could topple over and scrape her knee. I set her back on her feet before replying. "I've enjoyed it," I had to admit. "I've been working on some new music in all of my spare time. I think you'll like it."

"I always like your music, Tohma!" He grinned, then, in typical Ryuichi fashion, switched trains of thought abruptly and ran over to a cart selling hot sweet potatoes. He came back with a paper bag, and handed out the treats to the girls before offering me one. As though he hadn't just vanished for five minutes, he picked up exactly where the conversation had left off. "There's so much emotion in it," he mused. It still surprised me when he turned serious like this, but I had come to expect moments of brilliant insight from him when we were dealing with music. "That's why people listen, Tohma, it's one of the main reasons. There's feeling there, something that reaches out and touches the listener. It's because of you." I was a little taken aback, but then he grinned up at me, looking just like he usually did, and added in a higher pitched voice, "Kumagoro says it's because you're a genius, na no da!"

"Thank you, Kumagoro," I said, remembering just in time that I was to speak to the rabbit as though he was every bit as intelligent as myself. I was rewarded with another bright smile from Ryuichi-san for it.

"I want to try writing words," Ryuichi-san suddenly said. This certainly _did_ take me by surprise, because it had seemed that he was content to have Noriko-san and I hand him finished music to learn. "There are words in my head when I hear your music, and sometimes they're the same as Noriko-chan's, but sometimes they're different. Your music talks to people, and I want to be able to talk to them too, but I can't write music, so I want to write words. Will you let me, Tohma?"

"I… well, of course, Ryuichi-san," I said, thinking it wouldn't hurt to let him have some fun, although I wasn't at all sure his genius extended past performing. But at least he would enjoy himself, and even if the lyrics turned out to be trash, Noriko-san could always touch them up to a performable level; she had a skill for such things. "I'd be glad to hear what you have to say."

"Yatta!" I wasn't quite able to dodge him this time, and by the time I was trying to pry him off, he had a deathgrip around me, and people were staring at us. "You're my number one favorite person in the world!" Ryuichi-san announced, still hanging around my neck, oblivious to the odd (and somewhat disapproving) looks we were getting from the two older ladies on a nearby bench, as well as the fascinated glances of a group of girls about Rie-san's age. "Ryu-chan loves Tohma best of all!"

About this time, his sisters clearly decided we were having too much fun without them and attached themselves to Ryuichi-san and me like barnacles until we were all standing in the middle of the park path wrapped around each other like absolute lunatics. It was so wildly inappropriate, and I felt like I was probably about to run out of air from being hugged by so many people at once, and people were still staring…

And because in the past year I had changed so much, I only laughed. Let them stare.

* * *

"All right, Ryuichi-san, let's try your song," I said two weeks later. It was late on Thursday night, but we had only started rehearsal an hour ago when Ryuichi-san had come in from one of his many part-time jobs. He had an odd work schedule to somehow manage to work around his sisters' lives so that either he or Rie-san was home at any given time of day. That meant that often he worked at night, though I hadn't known that when I first met him. It seemed Noriko-san had been serious when she had told me that he had been raising and providing for the girls by himself.

The next night we had another club performance, the biggest we had been able to secure so far, and Ryuichi-san had announced that he wanted to sing the song I had given him to work on. However, when I asked to hear it, his response was unexpected. "No!" Ryuichi-san said cheerfully. "Let's not."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Didn't you say you wanted to write words?"

"I do na no da!"

"Maybe he just didn't finish them," Noriko-san said with a laugh. "It's hard work, isn't it, Ryu-chan?"

"No, I finished them!" he said, still cheerful. "It was fun!"

"Then why don't you want to sing it for us?" I asked patiently. "We want to hear it, too."

"It's a surprise na no da!" he said with a laugh. "You can hear them tomorrow."

"But… we can't do it without rehearsal," Noriko-san said, wide-eyed.

"Yes you can!" Ryuichi-san disagreed. "Noriko and Tohma can do anything!"

"Well, we_ have_ run through the music before," I said slowly. "I suppose we-"

"But we don't know if…" Noriko-san trailed off, and I knew she was thinking how to say it without hurting Ryuichi-san's feelings. It was true; the lyrics could very well be awful, and we wouldn't know until we were up on stage and he started singing. But saying so could easily make Ryuichi-san pitch a tantrum (these were never a pleasure to deal with). Eventually, Noriko-san sighed and nodded. "All right, Ryu-chan, it will be a surprise. We can do it last on the program."

"Because the last song is the most important and leaves the biggest impression," I added quickly. I didn't want him upset by this compromise, either. If all else failed, the people in the club would probably be a little drunk and less discriminating at the end of the night.

Ryuichi-san nodded happily. "Thanks, Tohma! Thanks, Noriko-chan!" He hugged Kumagoro, but for a moment he looked more serious than usual. "It's going to be the three of us forever," he said vehemently. "Because Ryu-chan can't sing without Tohma and Noriko-chan. Without Tohma or without Noriko-chan or without Ryu-chan, there wouldn't be magic anymore. It has to be all three of us." He grinned at me. "So all three of us have to be together forever and ever and a day, ne?"

Noriko was clearly struggling not to cry; she was far more emotional than I was, and even I was touched. "Of course it's going to be the three of us forever," she said in a voice that was falsely too bright. "We wouldn't be the best if it wasn't all three of us. And we _will_ be the best, just wait and see."

* * *

The club's name was Ruido, and it was a relatively new establishment. "Their current goal seems to be to showcase new local talent," I told Noriko-san and Ryuichi-san as we pulled into the parking lot and began to unpack the considerable amount of equipment we had between the three of us. I was beginning to consider buying a new car, big enough that we wouldn't have to be quite so cramped, what with two keyboards and everything else we were lugging around. "The owner is acquainted with… well, anyway, I had to pull a few strings," I finished. My father would probably be furious if he knew I was using my connections this way. "But once I got through to management, they seemed pleased to hear from me. Apparently, we're acquiring something of a reputation."

"And a fan base," Noriko-san said dryly. "Those girls who follow Ryu-chan around are a little scary to handle, even for me."

"Whereas the young men who have routinely come to see you play since you were fifteen and probably before are far less scary, of course," I said with a laugh.

"I like them!" Ryuichi-san piped up. "Everyone who comes to hear us every time is my friend, because they love our music!"

"How simple it is when you're not the one who has to fight off the fangirls," Noriko-san said with a giggle. "Well, soon we're going to be famous and then someone else can worry about keeping them from ripping Ryu-chan into pieces." She grinned wickedly. "Then I might start liking them too."

"You don't help with them much now," I said. "It's my job, and I won't mind relegating it at _all_."

"Well then, in order to have someone to relegate it_ to_, we had better get in there and play," Noriko-san pointed out. "Before they decide we're not coming and all of our grandiose plans about bodyguards for Ryu-chan come crashing to the ground."

* * *

To our immense satisfaction, the place was still packed with people two hours later. More than once I wondered if Ryuichi-san's vocal chords were made out of steel, as he showed no sign of exhaustion, and had taken all of two water breaks all night. He was still going strong and we had the audience all but eating out of our hands by this point.

We had started with our own songs, but as the night grew later began taking cover requests when we started to run out of music. Anything we touched seemed to turn golden immediately, whether it was our own or someone else's, and the night was flying by. I didn't want it to end, and I could tell Noriko-san and Ryuichi-san felt the same way. I felt almost melancholy when the clock showed five minutes to midnight and Ryuichi-san thanked the audience exuberantly before announcing the last song of the night. Now I was more than a little worried on top of being rather melancholy, but the rest of the night had gone so marvelously well that I was fairly sure that whatever happened now, the impression we had made could not be erased.

We played the introduction to the cheering, laughing crowd. It was a little heavier than most of the music we wrote, faster and more energetic, and Ryuichi-san had asked when I offered him a few choices of what to set to words. I couldn't see his face because his back was to me, but just by his posture I could tell he was back in that intense, personal world that music created for him.

Ryuichi-san had surprised me before, and often, but he still managed to do so every time I though I had categorized him neatly. This was one of the many times when he wildly surpassed my expectations, and the first time I became fully convinced a genius was hiding under the innocent smile and wide eyes.

"_Hide your scars behind your eyes…"_

Dark, was the first thing that came to mind. The words were distinctly different from Noriko-san's. Those always had a bit of a cheerful energy around them, they were hopeful even when they were sad… These words were different. Their power came from their darkness, from a sense of complete abandon bordering on insanity.

"_Let the glass dreams shatter  
__Behind the red horizon…"_

The audience was as entranced as I was. They had gone eerily silent, and the music was pounding out of the speakers and echoing through the room. I couldn't see Noriko-san, but I was grateful she had kept enough self-control to keep playing when Ryuichi had thrown us this curve, though I was beginning to realize he would always have the power to surprise me.

"_Start to see it never mattered,  
__You can't stop when you're this far…"_

The song seemed to last forever, though I knew intellectually that the backing track was only four and a half minutes long. Time seemed fluid, jumping in starts between Ryuichi-san's voice and instrumental breaks. The lighting technician had turned the lights down when this had started, and now there was a single white spotlight on Ryuichi-san, but it was all he needed as he performed for the spellbound audience.

This was the last, missing piece.

The last note lasted an eternity, and complete silence greeted the end of the song as Ryuichi-san lowered his head and let his hair hide his face. The silence stretched into long moments, and we stood there, frozen. I began to think time really had stopped.

Then there was a roar, almost loud enough to knock me off my feet, and Ryuichi-san was jumping up and down and shouting something to the audience, but even with a microphone, I couldn't hear him over their cheering. Suddenly, reality came crashing back, and I was sweaty and hot under the lights, and my feet hurt almost as badly as my hands. Then there were people swarming the stage, and the employees of the club were hard-pressed to keep them back. Noriko-san jumped up, and I saw her now, with tears in her eyes, as she launched herself at Ryuichi-san with something between a laugh and a sob, and everything was chaotic and loud and absolutely beautiful.

There was no experience to compare with that night. I felt giddy and lightheaded and not at all like my usual self as we were ushered to the dressing room and the audience was being forcibly dispersed. There were people screaming our names, not just Ryuichi-san's, but Noriko-san's and even mine, and we could hear them even through the closed dressing room door where we collapsed like rag dolls to the chairs, the couch, and the floor. There didn't seem to be anything at all to say.

Suddenly, the door I had carefully locked was swinging open, and a man strode in. He wasn't anyone I had ever seen before, I was sure. He was very clearly Western, with his long blond hair gathered into a ponytail and eyes that were wide and blue even while they were narrowed and measuring us. He cast a glance at us around the room and spoke, his American accent immediately recognizable. "So, he was dead on about you three."

"I locked the door," was the first thing that came to mind. I felt immediately stupid, but now that the adrenaline rush of performing was gone, I was too tired to even lift my head.

"Of course you did, or you may have found yourself torn limb from limb by rabid fans. That will take some getting used to."

"How did _you_ get in?" I asked.

He grinned. "I picked the lock, of course. It would have taken too long to find the building manager and have him admit me. He's busy trying to keep the people out."

"Who are you?" Ryuichi-san said, finally lifting his head from the floor where he lay, having grabbed Kumagoro before collapsing there. "A new friend?"

"I'm sure we're going to be wonderful friends," the American said with a chuckle. "My name is K."

"Who are you exactly, K-san?" Noriko-san piped up from where she was sprawled across three chairs. "Your name tells us nothing, and I'm not at all sure I trust a man who can pick a lock."

To my great surprise, he laughed long and heartily before answering. "K of Shinjin Records, at your service," he finally answered. "Our agents have had our eye on you for a few weeks, but tonight was the first time I saw you live, and that closes the deal." Noriko-san was gaping. Even Ryuichi-san looked shocked. I certainly felt as though I had just been hit head-on by a car. "Well, children?" he said in English. "How would you like to make a record?"


	6. Dizzy

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Six: Dizzy**

* * *

Author's notes: You may notice this fic is labeled as romance now. Why, do you ask? Well, because I realized as I wrote it that we're about to hit one of the most important periods in Tohma's life. Namely: the point where he falls head over heels for his future brother in law and can't find his way out. In fact, there's plenty of feelings flying around now, most of them more than just friendly. Watch Ryuichi especially starting next chapter. There's your advance warning.

In other news, I was going to hold this hostage for one more review, but didn't have the strength. So you get it, despite the fact that I think I'm not getting nearly enough feedback! pout Review and good things shall befall you!

Disclaimer: I own no one you recognize, but I want to hug Tohma.

* * *

Everything happened dizzyingly fast. As I got to know K-san, I would realize that this was the way he always did things; in the quickest and most efficient way possible, whether or not that involved skirting around laws, ethics, or whatever else he happened to think was in his way at the time. While we were still gaping at him, he pulled a contract out of his pocket with our names already on it. When I made halfhearted attempts to take it for my lawyer to look over, Noriko-san jabbed me in the ribs and K-san informed me that since I had finished Tokyo University, he was sure I was more than capable of scanning it myself. I had all of three seconds to digest this before Ryuichi-san leaned over my shoulder with a pen and messily signed his name on the line, followed by Noriko-san, and then there was nothing for it but for me to follow suit.

So then it was official.

I was still in something of a daze when I went home and collapsed into bed near dawn, but I was awakened no more than four hours later by the phone. An exuberant Noriko-san was on the other end, sounding far too perky for her own good. "Tohma-kun, good morning!"

"You were up as late as me," I mumbled. "How can you be so energetic?"

"K-san gave me espresso!" she chirped by way of explanation. "And of course I'm energetic; I'm at work!"

"…Work?"

"Work!" she said again with relish. "You should be too!"

It took me a few seconds to process this, but I was feeling more awake by the minute. "You're at Shinjin?" I finally hazarded a guess. For a moment I had thought that I had dreamed all of it.

"Of course I am! And you'd better get down here before K-san gets angry, because he says he'll be after you with a shotgun if you're ever late again, and somehow I don't think he's kidding…"

"Noriko-san, that wouldn't be legal," I said reasonably. Of course, back then, I wasn't very well acquainted with K-san yet.

"I wouldn't try him."

"It's Saturday morning," I said, but I was already getting up and heading for the shower. "I wasn't even aware that we were supposed to come today."

"Ryu-chan got here fifteen minutes ago," she said mercilessly. "If even he knew to be here, you have no excuse. Up, dressed, and eat on the way. Now!"

I sighed as she hung up the phone, but quickened my movements.

* * *

It seemed nothing was going to slow down. All three of us were more than a little bewildered at first, but gradually became accustomed to the hellish pace of the business. Within the first week, we were passed around the various departments between rehearsals and song-writing sessions, watched over by K-san. He dragged us to a hairstylist first. Both Ryuichi-san and I were immediately passed over to a slightly terrifying woman with scissors, and Noriko-san had a bit of an argument over her pink hair, which she had grown quite fond of.

"No, pink isn't going to do."

"But I like it!"

"You're… plenty cute enough without pink, Sakakura-san."

"But I _like_ it!"

"No, absolutely no pink."

"But-"

"Will you agree to purple?"

"…Fine. But pale lilac, then."

After the haircuts came the wardrobe consultant, who took one look at Noriko and me and focused almost exclusively on Ryuichi-san. Clearly Noriko-san's taste in clothing had passed the test, but the man was absolutely dissatisfied with the loose, comfortable clothing Ryuichi-san preferred. "When you go out in public, you wear whatever you want," he said. "When you perform, you do _not_ look like _that_."

Ryuichi-san took the criticism cheerfully, commenting later that it had been fun to play dress-up, although judging from the several items of stage clothing I had seen, they were well on their way to turning him into a sex symbol. Not that they would have a hard time, I reflected, considering how he acted on stage.

Next came the little matter of public relations. "First of all, you need a name," K-san told us. "I'm rather surprised you haven't come up with one yet, but we obviously can't market you without one. Think of something."

That carried the weight of an order, so we spent half an hour in thoughtful silence before Ryuichi-san piped up, "Kumagoro says the band needs to be called Nittle Grasper!"

I had a feeling that had been an attempt at English that had gone terribly wrong, since neither K-san nor I could puzzle out what it meant, but when Noriko-san asked, "Why Nittle Grasper?" Ryuichi-san only smiled brightly and said, "Why not Nittle Grasper?" That seemed a quite logical argument for Ryuichi-san, and since no one except Kumagoro had given any input, we kept the name "unless we think of something else". Then, needless to say, it stuck.

Following this were several arranging sessions (which meant I was the one doing most of the work, as K-san decided that I should be taught the basics of production), at which point all three of us were given a day off just as we were about ready to collapse.

"That can't have taken only a week," Noriko-san sighed. "I'm tired enough for two lifetimes."

"And we get to do it again tomorrow," I pointed out with a bit of a smile. I was really starting to enjoy the pace; it gave me something to do every moment of the day. "Are you sorry you wanted to do this?"

"Of course not!" she replied immediately. "I'm becoming addicted to coffee. But I'm not sorry."

"I'm so tired… but I've never had more fun!" Ryuichi-san beamed. As was often the case, he spoke for all of us.

* * *

By the time a month had passed, I had to wear sunglasses when I went out so that no one would recognize me. Noriko-san complained of the hats she had to don, but none of us had anything on Ryuichi-san, who really did have a bodyguard at this point, in the form of K-san with a gun. We were almost ready to release _Glass Dreams_, which was the single K-san had chosen from our considerable list of songs to record first (to no one's great surprise). Even without the disk being finished, I sometimes heard passerby humming the tune. "Those who were at the Ruido concert and saw your TV spot last week picked it up, and now it's spreading without any outside aid from the company," K-san said, well-satisfied. "We don't _have _to sell you. Everyone is in a frenzy even without gimmicks."

It was true. We were being recognized in the streets now, and K-san admitted to having had to divert a mob that had started around Ryuichi-san when he had carelessly taken off his hat in public. "It takes the good part of a year to get this far," he said. "The owner of Ruido is ready to bow down and worship you. Thanks to your appearance there, the venue has become almost legendary. They don't have to go trolling for new talent; established, well-known groups are practically beating down the doors to perform!"

We had to change our phone numbers after they wouldn't stop ringing, even in the middle of the night, with near-hysterical fans wanting to know if we were _the_ Seguchi, Sakuma, and Sakakura. I thought privately that all of the other people in Tokyo with our last names were probably ready to strangle us, but we took this all rather well, especially Noriko-san, who actually seemed to enjoy the late night confessions of undying love. "We're living under a charmed star," she was fond of saying. "We're making history now."

That was true too. We were nothing less than an immediate sensation. By the time two months had passed and our first single had been released, with our first full disk in the works, I could hardly turn on the television without seeing one of our faces, and it seemed like every magazine in the country had printed our pictures at least once. As I had predicted, Ryuichi-san had become a sex symbol, as I had not predicted, Noriko-san and I had, as well. "We have doujinshi," Noriko-san said with a giggle as she walked into the studio one morning. "You wouldn't believe some of the things I saw when I bothered to look into it." She threw a stack of the thin books on the table, and sure enough, there were our faces on the covers, drawn in a multitude of styles.

"Ooh, manga!" Ryuichi-san exclaimed cheerfully. "Let me see!"

While he flipped through one of them, wide-eyed, Noriko-san gave me a sly look. "The tamer ones feature you and me in a meaningful relationship. As for the rest…"

She trailed off artfully just as Ryuichi-san exclaimed, "Wow, look at this one! I didn't know you could-"

Having a rough idea of what he was about to say, I snatched the book away from him, and felt my face heat as I beheld myself doing some very uncharacteristic things. "Why, Tohma-kun, I do believe you're blushing," Noriko-san said wickedly. "Surprised?"

"Are all of them like this?"

"Enough are. Can you really blame them? It has such potential! You have such a _pretty_ face, and Ryu-chan is always glomping you in public at the most opportune of times."

"He throws himself at you just as often!" I said, quite distressed.

"Ah, yes, but I don't carry the stigma of the forbidden," she said merrily. "Every generation needs its kick, after all." She laughed and picked up one of the books that had been near the bottom of the stack, and I saw now that plenty of the covers featured myself and Ryuichi-san alone, often in various states of undress. It took all the self-control I had not to slam my head into the desk.

"I'm… just… going to stay away from manga stores," I finally said weakly just as K-san came into the room. "Maybe it will stop when I get married."

"Don't be stupid," K-san said, picking up one of the books on the table and flipping through it with interest. "This is great publicity, it means people know who you _are_, and it isn't like they're _photographs_. Let the little girls who pay your salaries have their dreams." He gave me a sharp look. "As for getting married, I've meant to discuss it with you for a while. I'm going to have to ask you to postpone the wedding, if not cancel it."

I gave him a blank look. "Why is this, exactly?"

"It should be obvious to someone with your business sense," K-san said. "You're young, you're new, and you're popular. Your personal fanclub is nearly as large as Ryuichi's, if you would believe. That number would be halved if you got married now, and I'm sure you don't want to deter your career. There's little probability of a flop now, but it's still possible." He shrugged. "Besides, are you that anxious to settle and raise a house full of children?"

I thought about this for a moment; it seemed very reasonable. "No, I suppose I'm not," I answered. "I'll have to talk to my family, then, and hers…" My relationship with my parents had improved to the point where they seemed grudgingly proud of me, but I had a feeling this would probably not go over particularly well. And once they were pacified, there was Uesugi-san to consider, which meant another trip to Kyoto to be the perfect eldest son, something I hadn't had to do in a while. I had not had word from him since I had cut off ties with my father's firm, though I supposed now that had been a little careless, as he was sure to see me on the television and draw all sorts of conclusions if I didn't talk to him first. Of course, I had been given the ideal way out by K-san, who suggested I cancel the engagement altogether, and with my career to consider, it would probably be possible with a minimum of shame incurred. I would have to think about that, and carefully. "I will need two days off," I said with a sigh. "I'll need to go to Kyoto."

"Days off? How drastic," K-san said. "You three don't get days off." He grinned. "Besides, we have the music video to film on location in Kyoto next week, and you'll be welcome to take evenings for yourself once you're there."

I had forgotten all about the video shoot, but that did seem the perfect way to do it and not miss work. There was the added benefit that I would have Noriko-san and Ryuichi-san to come back to if my conversation with Uesugi-san went badly. "Perfect."

* * *

When I fell in love for the first time, it was just like everything else that happened that year: dizzying, unexpected, terrifying, beautiful, and so fast that I didn't know I had to hold on until I was already too far gone for it to make any difference.

We came to Kyoto a few days past my twenty-fourth birthday. It was an unseasonably warm day for November, so warm that we hadn't had a great deal of trouble filming out of doors in sometimes scant clothing, and that even after the filming, I only had to throw on a light coat to feel warm in the sunlight. The first day's filming finished early enough that I could take the trip to the Uesugi temple and arrive before it was too late to be polite. With my hectic schedule, I had not had a chance to tell them I would be coming, but as long as I showed up after dinner but before nighttime, it would be all right, according to my reasoning.

There was an air of emptiness to the place when I pulled into the courtyard, and the fact that no one was home was confirmed by the absence of cars. I decided to walk around to the back and wait, certain it wouldn't be long until they were back.

He had fallen asleep under a tree by the koi pond, clearly taking advantage of the unexpectedly mild day. He would probably be scolded for it; the ground was still cold, even if the air wasn't, but he was sprawled carelessly on the dry grass, the jacket of his school uniform unzipped, a book lying near his hand. A book bag lay nearby. His hair was a little on the long side, gold against the gray, and his face was a study of complete innocence under the shadows cast by the bare branches of the tree.

Something moved inside me upon seeing this idyllic scene, something I didn't recognize right away and foolishly ignored. Instead, I walked over to him and knelt on the ground, putting a hand gently on his shoulder to wake him. "Eiri-kun," I whispered, unsure why I was whispering, but unable to raise my voice. "Eiri-kun, wake up."

He stirred after a moment, then opened his eyes and looked up at me sleepily. The dry grass had imprinted itself on his pale cheek, making his face look a little unbalanced. That something inside moved again. "Tohma-san?" he finally said. "Aren't you in Tokyo?"

"That's a funny question when you're talking to me in Kyoto," I said, still softly. "Now, I have one for you. Why are you sleeping on the ground in the middle of November?"

"The… oh," he said, blinking still-bleary eyes. "I forgot my key, and Otousan took Mikarin and Tatsuha somewhere while I was at cram school. I thought I would wait for them here. It's warm."

"You might still get sick," I told him. "At least zip your jacket." I reached out to do it for him, in much the same comfortable way I would have adjusted the clothing of one of the Sakuma girls, but again my body had a strange reaction; my hands shook slightly as I completed the task, and I had to clasp them to the point of white knuckles on my lap to get them to stop. I had no idea what was going on. "I'll wait with you," I said, suddenly uncomfortable. "I didn't warn your father I was coming."

"I thought you were in Tokyo getting famous," Eiri-kun said. "Mikarin nearly died when she saw you on television for the first time. Otousan had a look on his face like he'd eaten a lemon."

I winced. "I was rather afraid it would be something like that. I was too busy to come and address the issue before." I leaned back against the tree.

"Oh," Eiri-kun said, sounding a little wistful. He was silent for a moment before speaking hesitantly. "Did you… come to break off the engagement? That's what Otousan thinks is going to happen." He locked his gold eyes with mine, eyes that were wide with childlike vulnerability. "Will you not come back after this?"

For a moment, I could swear I stopped breathing. While I puzzled over this curious phenomenon, Eiri-kun kept looking at me with those wide eyes until I made myself look away, entirely lost by this point. "I…" The truth was, I had been considering it. It could be done with a minimum of fuss, and while I liked Mika-san, I wasn't in love with her like the songs Ryuichi-san wrote… of course, back then, I still thought love was reserved for song lyrics and not people. "Of course I'll keep coming back," I heard myself saying. "I couldn't just disappear now, could I? We've known each other for too many years."

He relaxed. "I suppose you're right. Mikarin will be glad. She's rather infatuated with the idea of marrying a rock star, even if Otousan doesn't entirely approve." He grinned. "Lucky Mika, as her friends say."

It occurred to me then that I hadn't said I would come back for Mika-san's sake at all, and not even for my family's sake. There was something about the boy sitting next to me, a little wistful, a little lonely, that was drawing me inexorably. I was just beginning to realize that I would gladly go through with the engagement and fight to keep it, just to keep seeing him. Just as this new wave of realization hit, leaving me breathless and more confused than before, there was the sound of tires in the gravel drive, and Eiri-kun jumped up. "They're home!" he said cheerfully, brushing off his pants for evidence of his nap and picking up his book bag. "Let's go meet them and put Otousan's fears to rest."

I stood and composed myself before I could manage a "Sure," at which point he was already around the pond, and there was nothing for it but to follow after him, wondering what was wrong with me.

* * *

I got through the evening with the Uesugi family in a daze. I must have made all the proper moves and said all the proper things, because Mika-san was practically glowing at the end of the evening and Uesugi-san's frown had slowly become his usual unreadable expression, which meant he wasn't displeased with me. "A year, maybe two," I told him. "I wouldn't want my career, which is still new, to interfere with my marriage. I don't want to cause any problems for Mika-san, of course, so if she'd rather-"

She had interrupted me then by saying she had been getting bored recently and was considering going to college. When even her father gave her a blank, disbelieving stare, she shrugged but held firm to this idea. "So we get married after I've finished," she said. "And we'll even keep the engagement secret until it's safe to disclose it. I don't mind waiting if Tohma-san doesn't mind waiting; that should satisfy everyone."

Indeed, this solution seemed to please even Uesugi-san, who said, "Well, I can see we've made a good match, since both of you are so determined. You're welcome here at any time, as always, Tohma-san. Please come and see us often, if you don't feel it will affect your work negatively."

I promised, of course. I smiled through tea, talked about everything and nothing, declined an offer to spend the night as politely as I could, pointing out I was due on location at the ungodly hour of six in the morning, and made my excuses to leave as early as was possible without being rude. As I left, I looked up to see Eiri-kun at the window of his room, reading. He looked down just then, and waved at me. I lifted my hand to wave back, and that odd fluttering sort of feeling was back again. I got into the car feeling unsettled and a little sick.

I turned on the radio as I drove through the dark streets, and there was Ryuichi-san's voice pounding out _Glass Dreams_ again. I listened to it with half an ear; I knew every nuance of this recording by now, I had sat in on the mixing process after it had been made, and I could hear it in my mind even without the radio. And even so…

"_You can't stop when you're this far,  
__It's so hard to just keep breathing…"_

The words touched me differently that night than they had before.

When I came into the hotel and was bowed in by security, I took the elevator to the top floor where our suites were located. Somehow, my feet knew better than my mind where I needed to go. I ended up in Noriko-san's room, not quite sure why myself. She opened the door with an expression that did not bode well for whoever had awakened her, but the frown lifted off of her face when she saw me. "You look like a lost little boy," she said. "What's wrong?"

"I feel like I've been suddenly run over by a freight truck," I told her honestly.

"Come in," she said immediately. I flopped over into the first chair I saw in the suite, putting my head in my hands. "Talk to me, Tohma-kun. I've never seen you like this. What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know," I said weakly. That was a lie. I had a very good feeling I _did_ know. I had done enough arranging around love song lyrics to recognize the symptoms, but seeing them on myself was too bewildering to stomach. This was not _supposed_ to happen. This was all, all wrong. Nothing and no one should have been able to make my thoughts spin like this, least of all a fourteen-year-old boy with innocent eyes the color of molten gold. "I'm dizzy," I murmured.

"I'm going to get you some tea," she said decisively. "You really don't look well."

As she walked off into the kitchen area of the suite, I made myself assess the situation.

_So, Seguchi Tohma. What do you know about yourself?_

_You're a rising star with a rabid fan following. You're rich. You're famous. Your friends love you. You have absolutely everything you could ever want._

_Except one thing._

_You are engaged to Uesugi Mika. And you are absolutely smitten with Uesugi Eiri. A boy. A fourteen-year-old boy. A fourteen-year-old boy who happens to be the younger brother of the girl you've agreed to marry._

_Whoever called you a genius?_

"Find me some cognac or something to go in that tea," I called, wishing these unexpected and unwanted feelings would just go away, knowing they wouldn't. "I think I need it."


	7. Interlude: Glass Dreams

**Shooting Stars**

**Interlude: Glass Dreams**

* * *

Author's notes: So, after three people telling me they did want the song in its entirety, I decided I had better comply, since chapter seven is still only a page and a half long (blame finals) and I'm being ripped to shreds already. So I present to you the first Nittle Grasper single as written by me! The rhyme scheme is a lot more erratic than the one for Shooting Stars was, and most of the other songs are more likely to be this way than neatly rhymed. Yes, I'm capable of making things rhyme neatly. Neat is boring.

Disclaimer: My lyrics. Yes, that's right. Mine. I disclaim nothing. Take and die.

* * *

**Glass Dreams**

Hide your scars behind your eyes,  
No one can touch them now...  
You can scream, it's all right,  
No one can hear you now...

So call for help, although you know  
No one will ever come now...  
You may have wanted to be saved,  
But it's a little late now...

Let the glass dreams shatter  
Behind the red horizon,  
Let the sky bleed tears,  
Let your eyes cry rain.  
Let the glass dreams shatter  
Watch the pieces scatter,  
Let them fly away  
And tell yourself you're sane...

Start to see it never mattered,  
You can't stop when you're this far,  
It's so hard to just keep breathing,  
Just keep smiling, just keep living,

Just pretend that you're still hoping,  
Don't forget to just keep breathing,  
Just stop praying, just stop thinking,  
Just keep breathing and stop dreaming...

Let the glass dreams shatter  
Behind the red horizon,  
Let the sky bleed tears,  
Let your eyes cry rain.  
Let the glass dreams shatter  
Watch the pieces scatter,  
Let them fly away  
And tell yourself you're sane...

So call for help, although you know  
No one will ever come now...  
You may have wanted to be saved,  
But it's a little late now...


	8. Something Like Gravity

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Seven: Something Like Gravity**

* * *

Author's notes: Gyahahahahaha! Finals, I have beaten you! I have persevered! I am the mistress of ALL THINGS! 

Ahem, yes. On that note ends my sophomore year of college :sweatdrop: I offer you this little gem to commemorate the event. I really like this chapter, even if the end made me blink and go to my roommate, whining that Ryuichi had gone philosophical on me and I didn't know what to do with him. But it just… fits.

In this chapter, Tohma struggles with the effects of gravitation, Noriko asks a lot of questions, Eiri complicates matters by being too innocent for his own good, and Ryuichi gets straight to the heart of the problem. Enjoy! Review!

Disclaimer: If you recognize someone or something, chances are it's not mine. About the only thing I own are the six volumes of manga I splurged on after selling back my textbooks…

* * *

The time immediately after my disastrous trip to Kyoto seemed to pass in spurts. I retreated into myself in defense of all the emotions battering at me, but it didn't seem to do any good. I played and composed on automatic—the quality of my work was still superior, so K-san certainly noticed nothing out of the ordinary. There were bright moments in the next several weeks: concerts, the release party for the new disk, New Year's Eve, which ended with me having to carry an inebriated Noriko-san home after her glass had been refilled by K-san one too many times. 

I avoided Kyoto like the plague, aided by my tight schedule, telling myself sternly that I had to get a hold on myself before I did something stupid. I told myself this would fade in time, that I was blowing it all out of proportion, that a moment of temporary insanity meant nothing, that I would forget all about this…

I didn't.

I couldn't stop myself from thinking about him, as though a floodgate in my heart that had been previously locked had now been thrown open. I saw him everywhere, in the glittering gold of New Year's champagne, in the shadows of bare tree branches, in the warmth of the sunlight that hit my face in the morning to wake me up from dreams I should never have had.

I hated myself for about a month, then became weary and resigned. I threw myself into work, trying to use it to keep myself awake and distracted. Sometimes it helped. K-san was delighted with my productivity when I churned out three songs guaranteed to be hits in the space of a week. Ryuichi-san seemed pleased on the surface, but the words he put to the music worried me, because they were killingly accurate to the situation I refused to discuss.

I wanted to see Eiri-kun more than anything, so I sternly forbid myself from so much as calling the Uesugi temple, burning my energy away in the recording studio and mixing sessions. I couldn't stop myself from thinking about him, but I could certainly stop myself from contacting him. When K-san announced that we were to go on tour, I was elated. Concert after concert, city after city, screaming fans, bodyguards, the make-up trailer, the private plane… for a while, at least, it was enough to distract me. But only for a while.

"You're going to have to tell me what's wrong with you sooner or later." Noriko-san's voice intruded on my pleasant, vague daydream as we were in transit to Okinawa. I didn't open my eyes, hoping to discourage her. "You can't trick me by pretending to be asleep. You're not the one who falls asleep on plane trips; that's Ryu-chan. Damn it, Tohma-kun, stop keeping secrets."

Sighing, I gave up and opened my eyes. Ryuichi-san was, indeed, curled up on his seat, hugging Kumagoro and clearly oblivious to the world. I would have given just about anything to be in his place in the face of this inquisition, which had started nearly three months ago when I had showed up at her door in Kyoto, and showed no sign of letting up, despite the bewildering fullness of our schedules. She hammered away at me at every spare moment. "I don't know what you're talking about," I said, looking out of the window over her head and trying to keep my voice mild.

"Like hell you don't," she replied. "You've been off since the video shoot in Kyoto, and it's not getting any better with time." She smiled sweetly. "I have you on this plane for the next hour, and there's no one to hear us, so I'll scream at you if I have to."

"I would hate to have K-san come back here when you cause a commotion and leave the controls unmanned," I said. Where a record label executive had learned to pilot a plane I would perhaps never know, but K-san's abilities saved us a great deal of trouble with public airports.

"Then you'll talk to me before I do," Noriko-san replied. Her sharp glare softened into something wistful. "I wish you'd talk to me. You've never locked me out before."

That made me feel much guiltier than her threat to scream. "I'm not locking you out," I replied. I looked at Ryuichi-san again… so much better to be unconscious than to have to deal with these constant feelings, with fear and hope and desire all rolled into one. Of course, if I was sleeping, I would be dreaming, and my dreams lately were perhaps worse than the waking reality.

If I told her… no, that was impossible, of course. No one could know about this. "I just… have nothing to say."

"Your eyes say otherwise, Tohma-kun," she said solemnly. "You've been so spacey lately." She leaned her head on my shoulder and linked the fingers of her hand with mine. "I ask because I'm worried, you know," she continued.

"Oh, and here I thought you were only in it for the gossip," I said, trying to make my tone jovial.

"Cut the joking, Tohma-kun," she said wearily. "You can fool everyone else, but not me. Not Ryu-chan, either. He knows something is wrong."

"Nothing is wrong."

"I wish you would stop lying to me," she hissed, trying to keep her voice low.

"We'll wake up Ryuichi-san if we fight," I said. "You know he gets motion sickness. He's much better off sleeping through the flight."

"We're not fighting," she parried. "_You're_ fighting."

"That's silly, Noriko-san. It takes two people to have a fight."

There was silence for a few moments, but when she spoke again her voice was soft once more. "I hate this." I didn't reply. "I hate that you can't trust me with your secrets. I hate that you're pulling away from me."

There was so much pain in that statement that I looked at her, really focused on her face for the first time since she had started talking. There were tears sparkling in her eyes, a surefire way to make me feel like scum and give her whatever she wanted. "Noriko-san…" I sighed. "It's not like that. You're the person I trust most in the world."

"Then why don't you trust me with this?"

"I don't trust myself with this," was my answer after a few moments of watching her face.

"At least I'm getting the truth now," she said. "It's that bad?"

"Bad enough. Please don't ask me." I felt the tenuous control I had on the situation slipping through my fingers. I wanted to talk to her about it, had halfway dialed her number in the middle of the night more than a few times, but in the end, I had kept my secret to myself. As long as no one knew, I could pretend it wasn't true. "I don't want to talk about this."

"I only wanted to help…" I was silent. She sighed and smiled, ready to change the subject. "You'll talk to me someday. Did you know, Ryu-chan says you're sad because you're in love," she said, with a little laugh that clearly showed how little she thought of this theory, and that she was trying to lighten the conversation. "Either that, or you have a stomach ache."

"I shouldn't be surprised that he's perceptive." I was tired and upset, so I spoke before thinking, something I did very rarely. "I know he sees more than he lets on, or he wouldn't write the way he does."

Noriko-san drew in a sharp breath. "Wait, _what?_"

I watched her face undergo a series of changes as she looked at me. "Why ask me when he gave you the answer?"

"If you're implying what I think you're implying, you don't have a stomach ache."

"Certainly it wouldn't last three months," I offered. "But I suppose it was the most plausible alternative to the truth he could think of."

"You're…" She shook her head. "Crazy. What with the ice water in your veins, I didn't think you were capable."

"Neither, my dear, did I," I smiled sadly.

She stared into my eyes for a few moments. "You're not joking," she finally said. "You're really… who is it?"

I felt very near panic. "No, Noriko-san," I said. "Absolutely not."

She didn't push the subject, only hugged me despite how awkward it was to reach over the seat. "All right, Tohma-kun. I'm sorry."

My head dropped to rest on hers, and I let myself be comforted.

* * *

It became apparent that fate, or whatever was ruining my life at this point, didn't intend for me to solve my problem by staying away from Eiri-kun. I often thought that there was something that connected me to him, something almost like gravity. Whether I wanted to or not, I would think and dream about him. Whether I wanted to or not, I would love him. And whether I wanted to or not, I would be drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, knowing I shouldn't get near him, yet unable to stop myself. 

All of this flew through my mind in a split second when I wearily climbed the stairs to my apartment, having just returned from the last city of the tour, and found him sitting on the doorstep, his head leaning forward onto his knees, very clearly asleep.

For one moment I was sure I was imagining things, or that I was dreaming, but no, there he was, asleep at my door at four in the morning. I didn't have any idea what he was doing here, or how he had gotten past the building security, or any number of other things, but there he was, and I was entirely at a loss.

He roused himself as I heavily took the last three steps, and smiled with bleary eyes. "I thought you'd never get home. Is it morning?"

I found my voice. "Almost. I… why are you here in the middle of the night, Eiri-kun? Did you run away again?"

He grinned and got up. "I didn't run away, and I didn't get here in the middle of the night. I got here at eight."

"And what have you been doing here since eight?" I asked, slowly. Maybe if I kept my voice level, he wouldn't notice I was almost shaking. What on earth was I supposed to do with this?

"Waiting for you to come home and let me in, since I don't have a key," He said reasonably. In a daze, I unlocked the door. "I thought you'd be back by midnight at least though."

"I'm sorry… I wasn't aware you would be waiting." I slanted a look at him.

"Well, my sister refused to give me your new phone number," he said, yawning and sitting on the couch. "But I hoped you wouldn't mind… if you do, I'll go home in the morning." He looked so guilty that I wanted to hug him and tell him it was all right… but that wouldn't be all right at all, would it?

Who knew anymore? Would I have to question all my urges from now on?

I leaned against the wall, watching him in the half-darkness, the only light in the house coming from the hall. His eyes glittered gold even in that little illumination, and I wanted nothing more than to go to him. I felt that pull again, something like gravity, and I firmly kept my back against the wall, fighting it. "So you did run away," I said, trying to sound stern, talking just so I wouldn't have to think. "Your father will not be pleased that you're missing school, I told you before."

"School got out yesterday," he said. "I finished at the top of my class."

"Congratulations," I murmured automatically.

"I got into high school, too. The same one Mikarin went to."

"Congratulations," I repeated numbly.

"I wanted to tell you since you're the one who talked me into trying and say thank you for lecturing me… back when I wasn't going to class or doing my work, you know," he said. "And since they wouldn't give me your phone number and I remembered your address… I just came. I'm sorry, I'm probably a bother, but-"

"No, of course not!" I interrupted him. He was here. I wanted him to vanish… and I wanted him to stay. I nearly whimpered. I had no idea what I wanted. "I'm just… very tired," I finally said. "I've been on the road over a month, and…"

"Oh no! Tohma-san, you should go sleep," he said, sounding distressed. "It was so inconsiderate of me to just show up now!" What was I supposed to say? 'I don't mind that you're _here_, but I don't trust myself alone with you'? _This would be funny if it weren't so sad._

"No, I don't mind, really," I said, though I minded very much. "I'll just… be clear-headed in the morning, all right, Eiri-kun? You should sleep too; sleeping sitting up must not have been too comfortable either…" I mumbled this while stumbling towards my bedroom, feeling like I needed to lie down.

"Good night, Tohma-san," he called softly from the living room as I shut my door behind me, leaning heavily against it, feeling like my skull was splitting open.

Though I was exhausted, when I lay down, the only thing I could think of was the fact that he was sleeping in the next room. I could almost fool myself into hearing his breathing through the walls. He was asleep in the next room, and it didn't even occur to him to distrust me. And for some reason I didn't quite understand, it was me he had come to with his good news. He had sat outside my door for eight hours, waiting for me to come home. He had come to me, no matter how hard I was trying to stay away from him, and he smiled at me with that innocent face because he didn't know…

However tired I was, I didn't sleep that night.

* * *

There were several skills I had perfected in my lifetime, and one of those was the ability to act completely unruffled, as though I hadn't a care in the world. I was convinced that if I hadn't been as tired when I had come home, and if Eiri-kun's appearance hadn't been such a surprise, I certainly would have handled everything better. 

The next morning I really was more clear-headed. Despite the fact that I hadn't slept, after a long shower and three cups of coffee I felt nearly as sharp as usual. It was fortunate that I had grown accustomed to going on little to no sleep.

I had breakfast started by the time Eiri-kun emerged into the kitchen, as well as a sketchy plan of action, so I smiled almost naturally. "Good morning, Eiri-kun," I said cheerfully. "I apologize for yesterday. I was very tired."

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Yes," I lied.

"I'm sorry for barging in-"

"Oh, please stop apologizing. I told you it was all right, didn't I?" I smiled. "I'm lucky you came now, when I'm finally getting a week off. They work us far too hard, you know."

"I've seen on TV," he agreed.

"Well, I'm free today, and Ryuichi-san called me a few minutes ago, saying he's going to take his sisters on a day trip to the sea. He asked me if we wanted to join him." Actually, I had called Ryuichi-san myself, waking him from sleep and talking him into getting out of bed and taking a trip, despite having just returned from one. I wasn't entirely sure why he had agreed as quickly as he had, but then, he was the most laid-back person I knew. Noriko-san would have asked questions, and having people, particularly children around, would make this a little easier on my nerves. I couldn't do anything stupid with Midori-chan clinging to my pant leg, after all…

"It's still so early in the year…" Eiri-kun said uncertainly.

"Yes," I agreed. "We can't go to the beach in summer. Too many people know our faces."

"Oh," he said. "I should have thought of that."

"Don't worry about it! This way, we'll have the coast to ourselves… it's so nice this time of year, even if it's too cold to swim. And I want to do something nice for you, since you got into a good school." I was going to treat him like a well-behaved child that had earned a reward if it killed me. Besides, as much as I just wanted to stay home after the month of hotel rooms, if I stayed alone in the apartment with Eiri-kun…

Better not to think about that.

I was rewarded with a smile that made my heart skip. "Thank you!"

"Your father called me too," I continued, trying to fill up the silence, telling the truth this time. "Even though you're not missing school this time, you still ran away without telling them, didn't you?"

He laughed, embarrassment showing on his face. "I didn't think he'd let me. That, or he'd insist Mikarin come along as a chaperone…"

How was I supposed to respond to this open, trusting expression? "Well, I won't pretend he's satisfied with your behavior, but he says you can stay for today." I softened these words with a smile, trusting myself just enough to tousle his hair in the most brotherly fashion I could manage. "Go and get changed, and we can go."

He bolted his breakfast and locked himself in the bathroom, and I let myself sag into my chair. If he had seen me then, he would certainly have known I wasn't as well as I claimed, but while the water in the shower ran, I felt safe taking off my mask. By the time he was back, I was smiling again, and I heaved a sigh of relief as we left the house. I could do this.

* * *

We still had to wear hats and sunglasses, as well as relatively drab clothing as a precaution, but Ryuichi-san had kicked off his shoes as soon as we had gotten near the sand, though it was barely warm enough. The mild spring weather hadn't stopped the girls from rushing into the water with their jeans rolled up, squealing at the cold even while they splashed each other. After a while, Eiri-kun had loosened up enough to join them, so I was left wandering along the beach. Ryuichi-san didn't seem to be in a playful mood, as he had let his sisters drag Eiri-kun off, then fell into step with me. 

We had driven several hours to reach the coast, then another hour until we had found a deserted stretch of beach, so we arrived mid-afternoon. I was left blissfully alone with my thoughts, as Ryuichi-san wasn't chattering, for a wonder.

"I like this spot," he finally said, breaking the silence. "Want to sit down?" He plopped down on the sand to look up at the sky. I sat on a nearby rock. I could just see the forms of Eiri-kun and the girls a little ways up the beach. If we had continued walking aimlessly for much longer, we would have lost sight of them.

I watched the sky for a while. It was nearing sunset now. "I'm happy I get to make music with you, Tohma," Ryuichi-san said unexpectedly. I couldn't see his face under the shadow of his hat and his large sunglasses.

"I'm happy to make music, too," I said, wishing I could get rid of my own sunglasses and let the wind blow freely in my face. "It's like a dream…"

"If you're happy to make music, why are you so sad?"

I didn't look at him, staring at the place where the sea melted into the sky instead. I had been expecting something along these lines from him. I also guessed that unlike Noriko-san, nothing but the full truth would placate him. "I suppose I'm a little sad because I can't have the one thing I want most of all," I said carefully.

"Yes, that is sad," he agreed. "You're always a little sad now. You must want this thing very, very much."

"Yes."

"But Tohma, you can't be sad all the time." He turned his head to look at me, though I still couldn't make out his facial expression too well. "Because you have other things that you want, don't you? Like your music. Everyone has something they want more than anything that they can't have."

"Do they?" I mused. "I haven't noticed."

"Yes," he agreed. "K told me once that if you ever reach your unreachable dream, you die. Maybe it's better this way."

"Is it?" I answered with a question again. This was turning into something of a vague philosophical discussion, something I couldn't quite connect with Ryuichi-san, even at the rare moments when he acted like an adult. "I don't know anything about that."

"You should," he said, sounding almost like his usual childlike self. "It's an important thing to know. And you would be so much happier if you stopped thinking about the one thing you can't have."

"I would be, but I can't," I answered.

"I know." He was quiet. "Because it's the one thing you want more than all the other things you already have."

"Does that make me greedy?" I asked with a forced laugh.

"No," he said, and turned his head away. "You didn't choose to want it. You just want it because you _do_."

"Yes," I agreed. "That's why I'm sad."

"It's a good reason to be sad. But if you're always sad, the people around you become sad too." His chest rose and fell with a sigh. "So you have to smile, because people want you to, and because it's easier to make yourself be happy when you smile. If everyone always let themselves be sad, no one would ever smile again. That would be terrible. It's better to try a little harder and be happy all the time, even if you never reach your unreachable dream."

"An unreachable dream…" I mused. "Do you have one, Ryuichi-san?"

He turned towards me again, and I had the oddest sensation of feeling an intense gaze burning through me, though I couldn't even see his eyes. His voice when he answered was so cheerful it seemed out of place. "Yes. I have something that I want more than anything in the world. And I can't have it, either." He stood up then, busied himself brushing the sand off of his clothing, then ran towards the others, shouting for them to stop wading before they got sick. I was left alone in the reddish light of sunset, wondering why I felt even more heartsick than before.


	9. A Little Rebellion

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Eight: A Little Rebellion**

* * *

Author's notes: Gah… I'm _so_ sorry! I swear, I feel about as guilty as anyone could possibly feel about this story lagging… it's back on track now. First there was the job hunt. Then there was the computer virus. Then I got volume six of the manga and had to change a few plans… and decided I hated Eiri, and had a really hard time writing around that. Not to mention the Fruits Basket RPG that ate my life…

But... here's chapter eight at long last! And I make up for all the upcoming angst by being wildly funny. Noriko... should never, ever give the "birds and the bees" talk to anyone, ever. Dear God.

Disclaimer: If I owned Gravitation, I've decided I would probably strangle Eiri for wrecking Tohma's life.

* * *

One of the most turbulent and precarious times in the existence of Nittle Grasper started with something that seemed, on the surface, to be perfectly innocent. So innocent, in fact, I should probably have suspected a ploy (it wasn't up to Ryuichi-san to catch these things, after all). "I'm bored," Noriko-san had said on our first day off that summer as we were all lounging around her apartment. "Would you like to go to Ueno Park?"

She had smiled so sweetly and been so bursting with a desire to go somewhere _normal_, just the three of us, even if we had to bundle on the sunglasses and floppy hats, that of course we couldn't say no. And after all, what could possibly go wrong as long as we kept a low profile?

Yes, in retrospect, I really should have known the two of them better by then.

* * *

It was a bright and sunny day, so hot that the sunglasses and hats actually came in handy. At first, it really was just an ordinary outing. We hadn't told K-san (this being Noriko-san's suggestion as well) so that he wouldn't tail us with a gun, looking a trifle obvious. We found a spot under a tree by the lake, Ryuichi-san begged until I bought everyone ice cream, and we settled back to relax on the soft grass, watching the little rowboats on the lake. These were mostly manned by teenage boys and tended to have no more than one passenger—clearly the high school crowd saw the beautiful weather as an opportunity for dates. They were carefree and loud, calling between boats, some of them holding races. Watching them was relaxing, especially when I was not being called upon to exert myself. Despite everything, music was as physically exhausting as anything I had ever done.

"It's been a while since we had a chance to do this," Noriko-san mused. She had lain down with her head in my lap when she had finished her ice cream, and looked as relaxed as a drowsy kitten. "I just want to bask in the sunshine, you know?"

"If we get a few days off next month, we should ask K-san if we can go somewhere with a beach that's far enough away from Japan that you can lay in the sun all day without worrying about being recognized," I mused. "A real vacation would be more than welcome."

"I don't care where, as long as all three of us can go," Ryuichi-san stated.

"What do you want to do for the rest of the day?" Noriko-san asked lazily.

"We could go to the zoo!" Ryuichi-san said immediately. "Or maybe we should get one of those boats, or... what is that?" He looked searchingly down the shore. "Let's go see!" he said, bouncing to his feet. "That looks like fun!"

We trailed after him. After a few moments, we could make out the source of the commotion. There was something like an open air stage set up, and currently children of all ages were clustered around. It seemed like the setup for some freelance musical festival, but no real performers were present. There were a few junior high girls on stage, posturing and giving a sketchy performance. "They're pretty awful," I said with a wince. It was one of our songs, and they were butchering it. Even at half-speed, the piano player's hands were not keeping up.

"You're just spoiled, Tohma-kun," Noriko-san said with a laugh. We listened for a few moments. "Well, all right, maybe not. They _are_ pretty awful."

"What do you think, Ryuichi-san?" He didn't answer me, which I thought was unusual, since usually it took a cosmic force to keep him quiet. I looked over to where he had been standing. "Ryuichi-san?"

"Where did he go?" Noriko-san asked. "I thought he was just there."

Keeping track of Ryuichi-san was usually K-san's job, but as we had not asked him along, this was certainly our problem. Actually, this problem was quite serious, as no one knew exactly what kind of chaos Ryuichi-san would perpetuate when left to his own devices, particularly in a crowd... particularly when the crowd consisted of girls, for the greater part, and most of them were in the junior high to high school category, which meant they were also highly excitable.

"I don't know," I said, feeling a little panicked. "I think we should find him before he... well, I don't know before what, exactly, but I'm sure he'll think of something." I felt the beginnings of a headache. "K-san might just shoot us if they tear him to pieces... and they will if they figure out who he is."

There was suddenly a series of high pitched squeals from the stage, followed by Ryuichi-san's unmistakable voice shouting, "Hi na no da! Is everybody shiny today? You don't mind if I borrow this, do you?" My heart sinking, I looked up top the stage, and sure enough, there he was. He had taken the microphone from a dazed looking girl and looked terribly pleased with himself.

"I'm pretty sure most of them have guessed who he is," Noriko-san muttered. She looked every bit as horrified as I felt.

Just as I was wondering the best way to evacuate Ryuichi-san off of the stage, there was a tug on my sleeve. "Tohma-oniisan! I thought it was you under the hat!" My eyes were probably a little wild when I looked down to behold Suguru-kun, one of my cousins, dressed in the uniform of the same private primary school I had attended, grinning up at me. He was surrounded by other children with awed, adoring looks in their eyes.

Of course, since his voice was high pitched, it carried. Between Sakuma Ryuichi standing on stage and "Tohma-oniisan" standing in the crowd...

There was absolute, charmed silence as everyone turned to look at the two of us. I felt a little like a caged animal in the zoo. Ryuichi-san was smiling up on stage, blissfully unaware of the fact that he had very likely signed and sealed our death sentence. "Tohma! Noriko-chan! Come play!"

Noriko-san was wide-eyed, but she took my hand and pulled me towards the stage. When I struggled, she turned to look at me. "We're not getting out of here either way," she whispered. "We might as well play something..."

Dazed, I let her pull me up onstage. It occurred to me that this was the oddest performance I would probably ever give. Suguru-kun was right up against the stage, his eyes shining. He was the first to lift his hands and start clapping. Then more and more people joined him, clapping and cheering as we stood there on the stage, still frozen. The girl behind the keyboard stepped away, looking like she was just on the verge of fainting. I didn't blame her; this was completely surreal. There was only the one keyboard, but Noriko-san went around to the left side. "You take the melody," she said softly.

I stretched my fingers and began to play.

* * *

"Seguchi, I think I might throttle you. Or maybe I can find some sharks and feed you to them instead. Can we get sharks?"

"Of course, sir."

I kept my head down while K-san so easily sold my life to the director of Shinjin. Not that I blamed him, precisely. I rubbed at my shoulder a little. It had probably been dislocated at about the same time I had lost my jacket... which had been sometime before someone had ripped my shirt. K-san hadn't even let us change when he had extricated us from the middle of it in a helicopter (which I was still trying to puzzle out) and brought us here, and being half-clothed was not helping my self-confidence at all.

"It's already all over the media. What possessed you? Aren't you supposed to be the intelligent one, Seguchi?" I winced. "Sakuma I could understand getting us into this mess. But you?"

"That was some mob," Ryuichi-san commented from the corner. "Kumagoro thinks they were going to roast us and eat us alive next."

"If you were roasted, you wouldn't be... never mind," I said. Ryuichi-san seemed not at all distressed by this situation if he could still play with his bunny.

"This isn't funny," the director snapped. "Where is Sakakura? Why isn't she here?"

"Because we haven't found-"

"She isn't feeling well," K-san interrupted Ryuichi-san's voice smoothly. "She probably overheated due to the press of people, so she lost consciousness. I will make your displeasure known to her."

"But she isn't-"

"Ryuichi, you should be quiet now," K-san interrupted again. "And we should probably get those scratches on your back looked at... Sir, if you'll excuse us, I really think it is best if I take them now. I can promise this won't happen ever again." With that, he bustled me out of the office after throwing Ryuichi across his shoulder and giving him no chance to argue.

A few steps down the hall I found my voice. "Why did you lie to him?"

"Simple. No one has the privilege to kill my artists except me," he said lightly.

"But we lost Noriko-chan!" Ryuichi-san wailed.

"Yes, well, that can be our little secret," K-san said cheerfully. "I have some... friends... looking for her. She'll turn up."

I decided not to ask about K-san's possible ties to the mob. "You don't seem angry."

"I'm not," he replied with a laugh. "If you can do something insane like this on your day off, it means you're still motivated."

I shook my head. The man was clearly sick and deranged.

* * *

I had been sleeping fitfully lately, so I was actually awake when there was a knock on my door at barely four in the morning. When I looked out through the peephole, I actually blinked a few times in confusion before opening the door. The four men in identical dark suits and sunglasses (at night in a darkened building, no less) did not look amused. Noriko-san did, but then, that was practically a constant. "Good morning, Tohma-kun," she chirped.

"She refused to come anywhere but here, sir," one of the men spoke up. His Japanese came out with a heavy American accent. "As we were told not to... coerce her... we thought it would be best."

I shook my head, completely at a loss. "I suppose you should come in," I said at last.

"We'll decline, but we'll leave her in your hands. Please make sure she doesn't go anywhere until Claude can see her in the morning."

Noriko-san giggled. "He has odd friends, doesn't he?"

I sighed. "Thank you, I'll take care of it." I pulled her into the apartment and shut the door.

She seemed nonplussed as she gently shook off my hand and immediately headed for the kitchen. "Do you have anything quick to eat? I'm starving."

I followed her. "Do you want to explain exactly why K-san's 'friends' brought you to my door... at this time of night?"

She turned from the refrigerator with an apple already in her hand. "You need to go grocery shopping," she told me. I kept looking at her with an expression that I was sure was becoming impatient. "I don't suppose you'll accept hunger as a legitimate excuse?" I kept staring at her. "Right, I guess not. It's pretty simple, really."

"Enlighten me," I said dryly.

"We were playing, the crowd got too big for the clearing, then there was a riot. I assume you remember the part where you disappeared under a pack of rabid fangirls."

"I'm pretty sure I recall that, yes." I gave up and started making coffee. Clearly I was up for the day.

"No need to be snippy. With you two out of the game, I had to run or be devoured. Just as I was sure I would be ripped to shreds too, I was being pulled onto the back of a motorcycle and driven out of there."

"I didn't know there were motorcycle paths there."

She waved her hand dismissively and bit into the apple. "Details," she said. "Do you want to hear this story or not?"

I sighed and tried to keep my sarcasm at bay. This early, it wasn't working. "I'm fascinated, really."

She only laughed. "That's most of it, actually. Once the last fanboy clinging to my leg disappeared down the road, the driver asked me who I had pissed off quite that badly."

My eyebrows rose. "He didn't know who you were?"

"Not a clue." She laughed again. "I never knew that could be so refreshing."

I shook my head. "So, this random stranger snatched you out of the fans' clutches-"

"And saved my life," she interrupted.

"-And did... what, exactly?" I pressed on.

"Took me out to dinner," she said promptly. "And other things."

"Other... things," I said slowly.

Her smile grew wider, only to be broken up by a yawn. "And now I'm tired. Incredibly hungry, but more tired."

I tried to push away the images of K-san's mafia friends pulling Noriko-san out of some motorcyclist's bed. "You're mad," I finally told her weakly. "Just... go to sleep and stop giving me a headache."

She giggled, kissed me lightly on the lips and snatched away the cup of coffee I had just made myself. "We all need to live a little," she said, perfectly carefree. She yawned again. "Besides, you weren't sleeping."

"Lucky for you I was worried," I snapped, but with no real heat. "They're going to feed me to sharks, and it's all your fault. And give me back my coffee." I made a grab for it, but she evaded.

"No coffee. Tohma-kun, you should really sleep more. The fact that you have the energy to be cute this early worries me a little." She poured my coffee down the sink, then walked out of the kitchen, still smiling like the proverbial cat who ate the canary.

* * *

Everything seemed to be back to normal for the next few months. Occasionally, I'd ask Noriko-san how she was doing. She'd always laugh, and occasionally toss in an offhanded comment about Tetsuya, which turned out to be the name of her mysterious rescuer. He remained a mystery; somehow, none of us ever got to meet him, and I had a notion K-san wasn't aware of his existence at all. However, though Noriko-san was clearly still seeing him, it didn't seem to affect her work much. About the only noticeable difference was that she no longer showed up at random intervals to spend the night at my house. I tried not to think about that too hard.

Otherwise, things were back to normal. Record sales were soaring. We were preparing to do a video shoot in Okinawa just on the verge of fall. I hadn't seen Eiri-kun in months, but he never left my mind. Ryuichi-san continued to smile cheerfully and write depressing lyrics. Noriko-san continued to be the glue that held us all together, somehow.

And then she vanished.

For a week, there was no word from her. I stopped playing. Ryuichi-san stopped writing. We canceled a concert, claiming she was too ill to perform. Ryuichi-san refused to leave my house, because he was sure I would be the first one she would call. Neither of us slept or ate much. Sometimes, he forgot to smile. K-san polished his variety of guns and said very little when the two of us showed up to sit and stare blankly at the walls of the office.

Neither of us felt much like making music.

On the seventh day of her disappearance, a rainy Tuesday and the day of the canceled concert, we trudged into the office unwillingly after K-san sent a limousine to pick us up. When we got to the fifteenth floor office, there he was, grimly polishing a rifle. Business as usual.

"Sit," he told us shortly, gesturing to a couch. When we did, he looked at us for a long time before speaking. "So," he finally said. "We can't keep going like this."

Ryuichi-san was already tearing up. He did that with increasing frequency lately. He grabbed onto my arm like a lifeline and practically crawled into my lap; I let him. "Noriko-chan needs to come ba-aaaaaaaaaaaack!" he wailed.

I looked hopelessly at K-san. "What are we _supposed_ to do? You found her last time."

"She's not in Japan this time," K-san replied calmly. "I'm working on it. As for you, what you are supposed to do is work."

"Nittle Grasper is Noriko-san, Ryuichi-san, and I," I said, stroking Ryuichi-san's hair and hoping he'd calm down. "If it isn't the three of us, then it isn't at all."

"So you refuse to play if she isn't found?"

"I refuse to touch a piano if she isn't found," I said, trying to keep myself cool and collected despite the puddle of sniveling Ryuichi in my lap. "I hope for all of our sakes she is."

K-san's eyes narrowed. "I don't like you throwing a temper tantrum. I never pegged you for a prima don-"

The door swung open, and he stopped. I stared. Even Ryuichi-san stopped crying.

A grinning Noriko-san, tanned very dark, her hair _black_ of all colors, and wearing a tiny dress printed with bright flowers waltzed in. She looked like she had just walked off of a tropical beach. "Good morning!" she said in heavily accented English. "Why the miserable faces?"

Ryuichi-san launched himself at her from my lap, wrapping his arms around her and howling her name in some bizarre mix of joy and tragedy. It was a good thing he did, because K-san was already pointing the rifle at her with a gleam in his eyes that said he would probably use it. "Where were you?" he said in a low, dangerous voice.

"The Bahamas, I think?" she said, in a voice that was not the least intimidated. "I'm not so sure, actually. I tried to call, but my cell phone wouldn't pick up down there, and there seemed to be a mass conspiracy against me finding a phone card. And then, I was a little busy, so I hoped Tohma-kun would hold down the fort while I was gone." She shot me an amused look. "Clearly, my expectations were too high. Were you crying?"

"Ryuichi-san was crying," I snarled. "I was being used as a sponge."

"Busy doing what?" K-san asked, putting down the rifle after it became clear he couldn't aim around Ryuichi; clearly he didn't want to kill Shinjin's secret weapon.

Noriko-san seemed very aware of this, as she wrapped her arms around Ryuichi-san in turn. "Busy getting married," she proclaimed calmly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

I choked on whatever I had been about to day and launched into a coughing fit. She only seemed amused.

"We discussed this," K-san said, lifting the rifle again and taking aim. "Ryuichi, if you would be so kind as to move."

"Don't move, Ryu-chan," Noriko-san said calmly. "K-kun, I really couldn't help it, you know. If I have a baby in seven months and I'm _not_ married, it will be even worse. I think I've done us all a favor."

"...Baby?" I choked out in a voice that was little more than a croaking whisper. "How...?"

"Well, yes, Tohma-kun," She said, as if lecturing a small and dull-witted child, ignoring the gun pointed at her head. "If your parents neglected this part of your education and you never read those doujinshi I brought you, I suppose I should enlighten you, for Mika-san's sake. When a man and a woman love each other—or when a man saves a woman's life and gets her good and drunk, as the case may be—they-"

I cut her off, waving my arms desperately. "I know this one, really!"

K-san kept pointing the rifle at her. "Sakakura, I think I would shoot you, if I hadn't just been informed that the band refuses to function without you." I winced at his use of her family name; he never did that except when he was angry enough to actually carry out on his threats.

"Ukai," she said, dragging Ryuichi-san with her to drop onto the couch next to me. "Not Sakakura, Ukai. I need to sit down. They weren't joking when they said this pregnancy thing makes you tired, and I just got off a plane, to boot."

Ryuichi-san looked up at her with tear-filled eyes long enough to ask, "You're not leaving anymore?"

She laughed and kissed his nose. "Not a chance I would leave you two when you fall apart like this without me."

"But your name doesn't start with an 'S' anymore," Ryuichi-san whined. "Sakakura, Sakuma and Seguchi!"

"Kumagoro's name doesn't start with an 'S', and he's one of us," she said very seriously, picking up the squashed bunny from where he had been smashed between her body and Ryuichi-san's.

"True..." Ryuichi-san said slowly. "But... your hair is black," he wailed, thinking of a new argument. "You don't even look like our Nori-chan anymore!"

"Well, there's always the fear of being recognized... or hunted by the American mob, as the case may be," Noriko-san said, acknowledging K-san with a wink. "Tetsuya suggested I make myself as inconspicuous as possible. Hard, with how stunning I look in a bikini, but the violet hair had to go."

There was a moment of silence, then K-san pointed his rifle at the ceiling and shot. I winced. "Noriko," he said, his voice still dangerous.

"Yes?" she grinned, switching back to her terrible English. "What is it, Mr. K?"

He locked gazes with her for a moment, then swore and threw the rifle on the floor. "Go get your fucking hair fixed. You look too damn normal, and you're on stage in five hours."

With a shrill laugh, Noriko-san dislodged Ryuichi-san back onto my lap and ran over to kiss K-san noisily on the mouth, then headed for the door before he could say anything.

As usual, Sakakura... now Ukai Noriko... had had the last word.


	10. Into the Fire

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Nine: Into the Fire**

* * *

Author's notes: I... don't have words for this chapter. You can't possibly imagine the agony I went through to write this, and any notes I might have would spoil it. Just let it hit you like a ton of bricks and tell me if I should up the rating.

Disclaimer: If they were mine, this chapter would never have happened this way.

* * *

I was awakened by an insistent knocking on my door just as I had finally drifted off to sleep after hours of staring at the ceiling. I tried to ignore it, but it wouldn't go away, so I finally got out of bed, managing to stub my toe on the way out of the bedroom. "Why does everyone insist on coming to my door in the middle of the night? Why not in daylight, like civilized people?" I grumbled to myself as the knock on my door repeated, but started undoing all the locks. At this point, I was too frustrated to bother seeing who it was first. I felt just angry enough to send whoever was on the other side of the door to hell. If it was Noriko-san, she would have a firm talking to about how it was her husband's job, and not mine, to feed her midnight cravings. I yanked open the door with a little more force than was strictly necessary.

And all rational thought fled.

"Tohma-san?"

I swallowed, my throat dry. I hadn't seen him in months. I hadn't talked to him in weeks. Why was he here?

"Tohma-san..." He looked like he was struggling with something. He reached out a hand which trembled slightly, stopping within millimeters of touching my face. He looked terrified. "I... shouldn't be here... but I... had to..." His golden eyes were pleading with me to understand something, and I felt a little like I was drowning.

Completely of its own volition, my own hand came up to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. He closed his eyes and leaned into my hand, turning the feather-light touch into a caress. His cheek was smooth and warm under my cold hand. It wasn't just his hand that was trembling, I realized. I felt the tremor here too, almost like he was a leaf shivering in the wind.

"Eiri-kun?" My voice was a whisper. I felt like I was walking on glass. "Why are you here?"

He took a deep breath, letting it out in a shaky sigh. "I had to," he answered in the same whisper. "I needed to tell you..." Another shaky sigh. "But I can't." He opened his eyes again, and I could see my face reflected in the amber depths, white as a sheet, my own eyes wide. For a moment, time seemed to freeze, and then the hand he had put up in the air finally moved, sliding up into the hair at the back of my neck, making my mouth drop open with a gasp of shock.

And in a split instant, the electrically charged space between us was gone. He was pressed against me, his heartbeat fluttering against my chest, his hands in my hair, his mouth hot against mine, still trembling, and not entirely with fear...

And then time was no longer standing still, it was flying.

There was a wild freedom here, it flooded into me, replacing my fears, doubts, questions, leaving only burning desperation. Such a foreign feeling, and yet so right, to feel him pressed against me as the blood roared in my ears, his skin hot under my hands when I pulled him closer until I felt every plane of him pressing into me, the gasp I felt as much as heard when I forced his lips open, fell into the kiss with an intensity that was sure to leave bruises. I shuddered when he responded, fisting his hands in my hair so hard it should have hurt.

I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. There were no excuses anymore, only desperation, nameless needs, bursts of white heat. Somehow, his hands were under my shirt, they were ice-cold, yet there was fire in the clinging touch. We stumbled back, forgetting the door, forgetting everything, still locked together. I ran into a table; the pain barely registered. Something fell to the floor with the tinkle of breaking glass. I felt it crunch under my bare feet.

He tripped over something; I caught him up somehow, barely supporting the two of us when the room was spinning out of control. He was still shorter than me, and his back was arched as I leaned over him, barely keeping balanced, pulling him closer by his hips, eliciting a moan when I accidentally nipped his lower lip. The rest of the world was crumbling away, swallowed in the raging inferno centered where our lips were still fused together, and we were tumbling towards the floor, but I couldn't think enough to regain my balance...

* * *

I woke up with a start to late morning sunlight and the sound of a single bird calling outside of my window. I felt dizzy and disoriented. The sheets were wet, not just with sweat. I sat up. "Eiri-kun?" I said softly. No answer. "Eiri-kun?" I repeated again, louder.

Silence.

Shakily, I got up. I found my robe hanging behind the door to the bathroom, went in to splash water on my face and try to get my thoughts together. Everything was fuzzy. I remembered Eiri-kun appearing on my doorstep as if by magic. And then...

I blinked a few times at my reflection. I didn't remember actually getting to _bed_. The floor, the couch, those I remembered vividly, but not my bedroom. When had that happened? And, the most important question... where was Eiri-kun?

I walked out into the hall. The apartment was silent as I stared at the table near the entrance to the living room. The floorboards were warm against my bare feet. I thought I remembered stepping on broken glass... but no, the crystal candleholder was whole and sitting on the table, not in pieces on the floor like I remembered. Everything around me was still. I was clearly the only one in the apartment.

I barely caught myself and fell into the nearest chair, my head in my hands. A dream... just another impossible dream on my first day off in a month. Just a regular morning when I was indulging myself by sleeping in. Of course I had woken alone. Of course he wasn't answering.

I had dreamed him, as I always did, so vividly that coming back into reality was like the shock of a bucket of ice water being upended over my head. He wasn't real. It wasn't real. It was never real.

I picked up the candleholder and threw it on the floor, getting a perverse satisfaction from the melodic tinkle of broken glass, the shattered pieces glittering on the floor.

I hid my face in my hands, precariously near tears.

* * *

"Yes, Mika-san. Of course I would be happy to arrange it. I'll send a CD and a promotional poster, too." I tried not to sigh into the phone pressed between my shoulder and my ear, steering my car (which I had been permitted to keep as long as I had the windows tinted) through late afternoon traffic. I had spent the morning composing, slowly and tediously because nothing worthwhile would come. It had the desired effect of dulling the aftereffects of the dream, however.

"I don't want you to send her _anything_," Mika-san snapped on the other end of the line. "Just scribble your name on a napkin or something. Just so she'll leave me alone."

"Err... right," I said, deciding not to argue with her. On the one hand, she seemed very proud of her connection to me. As far as anyone outside of our families was concerned, it was only that our parents were old friends and we vaguely knew each other. However, as tenuous a connection as that seemed, Mika-san's friends were constantly harassing her for autographs. Mostly she said no, trying to downplay the connection. When they got to the point that this one had—namely, to the point of stalking her after class and faxing notes with reminders and pleas in the middle of the night—she generally called me with her own plea: to save her sanity. If it was Ryuichi-san or Noriko-san who was her friend's current favorite, she took it fairly well. If it was me... well, it wasn't particularly pretty.

"I mean it, Tohma-san, a napkin. A used one." She paused. "No, she'd probably like that."

"Right." No, definitely, definitely better not to argue.

I had a slight headache by this point, wondering how to politely end this conversation. Traffic was vicious, and concentrating was difficult. Just as I was about to say something to that effect, there was a commotion on the other end of the line. "Eiri wants to talk to you," Mika-san said, exasperated. "He keeps trying to get the phone away from me. He—no, Eiri, I will _not_, why don't you go... study or something? I'm _busy_ here and Tohma-san can't be bothered—I'm sorry, Tohma-san, I think I need to go-" Then the line had gone dead.

My tentative good mood evaporated like smoke.

I had to work at erasing a scowl from my face as I stalked into a nearby florist's, paid for a dozen roses, and stalked out again. I drove unsafely, jerking the wheel around, cutting off other drivers, getting honked at. I couldn't understand _why_ I was quite this angry, only that I was. _Anger born of futility._

But the crazy driving helped. My usual unreadable facial expression was back by the time I screeched to a stop outside of a posh high-rise apartment building. The doorman bowed me in, and I took the elevator to the top floor, ringing the bell and waiting politely until a voice from inside called, "Come in!"

I shook my head at her lack of concern for security, but walked in, slipping out of my shoes and setting my hat on an end table before proceeding into the main room of the apartment that took up the entire fiftieth floor.

"You look good," I said, setting down the flowers I had brought into a nearby vase. She was lounging around on the sofa, wearing an impossibly tiny top and a pair of shorts that seemed made to showcase her rounding stomach, looking entirely satisfied with herself.

"I feel even better," she announced, popping a cherry into her mouth. "I think pregnancy agrees with me."

"I think you're right," I agreed. She sat up and patted the couch next to her, indicating I should sit down. "Is Tetsuya-san at work, then?"

"He has a lecture today," she shrugged. "He'll be home eventually. And he'd better not forget to bring home dinner this time." She looked righteous and miffed. "Please, as if I can cook in my condition!"

I kept myself from pointing out that not only was she still performing actively (and therefore not an invalid), but that she could not cook in any condition, pregnant or otherwise. "It's still hard to imagine you a married woman," I said instead with a shake of my head, helping myself to one of her cherries. "But I think that agrees with you, too."

"Right, and who would have thought, huh?" She giggled. "At least the media buzz has mostly died down now. And Tetsuya says he hasn't had any hate mail in two days. That's some kind of record."

I laughed. "How has he taken that?"

She shrugged. "It could be worse. We didn't think it would be easy."

"Did you think at all?" I asked jokingly. She hit me with a pillow. "Well, as long as you're getting through it, I suppose."

"It's fun most of the time," she said. "Anyway, we're going to have to go on hiatus pretty soon here, and as long as we make it that far, Tetsuya and I will settle in well enough before I'm back on active duty." She leaned back against the cushions. "I have to say, I'll miss the stage during that time, though."

I nodded. The fans didn't know about the pregnancy; Tetsuya-san had it hard enough after the press conference announcing Noriko-san's marriage. K-san had said that if the fans knew she was expecting it would probably be a great deal worse, so we hadn't told anyone. For a while, that had been easy, then the costume designer had had to get more and more creative. I expected him to throw up his hands any day and announce that there was nothing further he could do about hiding it. Then Nittle Grasper would go on hiatus to "write new songs" until Noriko-san was back in stage shape. She intended to keep her child out of the media if she could manage it. There were tentative plans to record once or twice during that time, but mostly she would be too busy for a little while to travel and keep our insane hours. As for myself and Ryuichi-san...

"What are you going to do with your break?" Noriko-san asked me, as if reading my mind. "I mean... half a year to do whatever you want. It seems insane. I can't remember what that's like."

"You'll be busy putting together your family life," I told her. "I doubt you'll get _too_ bored."

She smiled contentedly, linking her fingers on her stomach. "No. I'm going to have a good time with it."

I ate another cherry. "Look at you. You're so content and placid you're almost... normal. It's a little scary."

"I think they said that's the hormones," she said lightly. Her dreamy smile turned wicked, and the glint I was accustomed to came back into her eyes. "I wouldn't be getting used to it if I were you."

I nearly choked on my cherry. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"So, what about your vacation?" she persisted. "It wouldn't be like you to just do nothing."

"Saa..." I said, leaning back to stare at the ceiling. In truth, the thought of so much time with nothing to do terrified me. Maybe I'd take on a production position at Shinjin. Anything to keep busy. Anything to keep from thinking too much.

"Ryu-chan's going to take his family on a trip this upcoming summer, I think," Noriko-san told me. "Midori-chan has this obsession with going to the Eiffel Tower, God knows why, so he told each of them to pick one place and is going to be flying all around the planet." She grinned. "What a father he'd make."

"He doesn't need more than the four he already has," I said. "He _is_ their father. And his stepmother's father, if it comes to that." It had recently come out that Ryuichi-san had spent a considerable amount of his earnings to finance his stepmother's treatment in some high-tech facility in Switzerland. Another chunk went to tuition at an exclusive all-girls' boarding school in the United States after Akane-chan had complained that she was having a hard time learning English in school. I had not been aware of any of this until K-san had mentioned finding the school at Ryuichi-san's request. It had always struck me as odd that although he had a large apartment now it was practically empty. It hadn't occurred to me that almost everything he earned got immediately sent overseas. On occasion, the singer still managed to throw me for a loop.

"Speaking of Midori-chan and the rest of them, weren't you saying something about getting Eiri-kun a place studying abroad?" she asked abruptly.

I did choke on my cherry this time, coughing until I felt tears come to my eyes. Noriko-san patted me helpfully on the back a few times.

"Poor Tohma-kun... you should be more careful. But anyway, about Eiri-kun," she continued blithely, "I haven't seen him and you haven't talked about him in a while... is he doing all right?"

I lowered my head between my knees, trying to recapture my breath and not groan with complete and utter helplessness. I could never escape him, but that day it seemed especially so. "Fine. Wonderful. I'm sure he's wonderful," I said tersely.

"Are you all right?" Noriko-san asked quizzically. "I thought you liked Eiri-kun."

"I do. I just don't want to talk about him."

"I... see," she said slowly. "Are you going to sit up?"

"In a moment," I practically snapped. I knew it wasn't her fault, but my temper was frayed. "Would you just give me a damn moment?"

The hand on my back was immediately withdrawn. "I can see you're distressed, so I won't slap you for speaking to me in that tone of voice," Noriko-san said coolly. "However, if you do not sit up and explain to me what the _hell_ is wrong with you lately, you can see yourself out."

It took me a moment, but I sat up slowly, lifting my head which felt so heavy suddenly. I met her eyes though I didn't want to. "I apologize," I said heavily. "It's not your fault."

"No," she agreed. "But I think it's time you stopped pretending you can handle your problems on your own. Clearly you need to talk about it. So talk."

I shook my head. "No."

She pursed her lips for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was impatient. "Fine. If you think you're all-powerful, it's not my place to beat sense into you. But if you think I'm going to let you torture yourself into a hole, you're wrong."

I looked at her blankly. A part of me was marveling that this was only the second time she had yelled at me like this. The first had been when I had refused to acknowledge music as my life's course. She had cried back then, but she looked nothing short of coldly angry now.

"Listen to me, Tohma-kun. I don't know how you define love, but the definition is not 'endless suffering'. If it's making you this unhappy, you have to _do_ something about it."

"But-"

"No, you _will_ listen to me this time," she cut me off ruthlessly. "You can't keep sitting on your hands and saying 'it's all right' when it so clearly isn't. So get up and _fix_ it. It's not like you to be a coward."

"That's easy for you to say," I said bitterly when I could get a word in edgewise. "It's not so hard when you have a nice cozy life with your husband and a child on the way-"

She cut me off again. "Let's review, shall we? I had to convince a man twice my age to marry me because I was pregnant with his child, and only discovered later that to my immense luck I can learn to love him after all. Oh yes, come to think of it, that was a real walk in the park." She glared. "How selfish can you be? We _all_ have problems."

"This is different," I said, feeling like the worst person in the world.

"Of course it's different. It's different for everyone. Life is like that," she said. Suddenly her sharp glare and tone softened, and she closed her hand over mine. "Tohma-kun... this isn't supposed to be easy. But you _are_ supposed to work through it, anyway. That's life too." She smiled very lightly. "It's terrifying, but if you don't break the stalemate, you'll spend the rest of your life wondering. And love is love... whoever it is, it doesn't matter. So stop killing yourself over it. There is no 'wrong' when it comes to love."

I looked into her eyes for a few endless moments, then squeezed her hand. "I think I need to go."

"I think you need to, too," she said, and let me go.

* * *

I didn't think as I drove to the airport. I didn't think as I bought a wildly overpriced last minute ticket to Kyoto. I didn't think as I boarded the airplane. Somehow I knew that if I started thinking I'd stop going, as if I was running on momentum that could be halted by one coherent thought. So I ruthlessly shut my mind off as the plane took off, listening to music with the provided headphones, thinking chord progressions and composition techniques, refusing to let anything else filter through.

When the plane landed, I disembarked and found a taxi on autopilot. I looked at the clock; it was almost nine in the evening. "Where to, sir?"

It only took a moment, then I was rattling off the name of the cram school Mika-san had told me Eiri-kun attended, and if the driver seemed a little startled, at least the car was moving, and we were traveling unfamiliar streets, and my mind was still carefully blank, even when the driver recognized me and asked an autograph for his daughter. I signed the back of a Shinjin business card, handed over too much money for the fare, and was already out of the car when he tried to give me change. I walked up to the building as if enchanted, knowing that I was a moth drawn to an inferno and for the first time not caring.

There was the sound of laughter, and a girl and a boy walked out of the building, then a group of girls, two boys, another girl—and then there he was, walking all by himself a few moments later when the street was already deserted, a somewhat sullen look on his face, the top two buttons of his jacket undone though it was cold outside. I stood still in my tracks when I saw him, feeling ridiculously that all of my life up to this point had only been leading up to this moment...

"Eiri-kun."

He turned. There was confusion in his eyes, then surprise, then pleasure, a warm and golden wave washing over me.

"Tohma-san?" he said, walking up to me, reaching out a hand to touch my jacket that was trying to blow away in a gust of wind. "What are you doing here?"

And I let myself take that hand in mine, marveling how warm it was, though he wasn't wearing any gloves. The heat seeped into me, just like the warmth and trust in his eyes. He didn't pull away from me, only looked at me inquisitively. Trust. It was all about trust.

_In a minute, he may not trust me anymore-_

_No. Don't think about that._

_Don't think._

"I came to see you," I said.

_In the end, I can't keep my distance. This something between us is a little like gravity, and we will be thrown together until something or someone changes..._

"Well, we will all be glad to see you; I'm sure Mikarin will be thrilled-"

"I didn't come to see your family. Just you."

He stared up at me for a few silent moments. It would be easy to drown in eyes like these, I thought, so big and gold and innocent and warm. "Why?" He asked at last, his voice very quiet. His hand was shaking ever so slightly.

_Just like then..._

_But this isn't a dream._

_This time it's real._

"Because I can't keep my distance like this and stay sane. It's killing me." Those eyes held nothing I could read. Confusion, apprehension...

But no fear.

"I need you. More than I should. More than I thought I could need anything."

I meant to kiss him once, lightly, barely a brush of lips, a whisper. I only meant to let myself taste that innocence for a brief moment, not knowing what would happen after, unable to think past that hesitant contact. I only meant to flirt with that fire, to pull away after the first intoxicating touch of that wild, impossible thing that could swallow me whole.

Except suddenly, the innocent kiss wasn't innocent, and those warm hands were clutching at the front of my jacket, and I was already burning away to nothing.

_Except this time, it's not a dream._

_This time it's real._


	11. Blind Hope

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Ten: Blind Hope**

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Author's notes: Aaand... off we go. As I told the lovely and talented Amanda, "Well, Eiri had to get his 'education' _somewhere_, didn't he?" I think that Tohma's about the best person there is for that, but then, I'm biased...

The next chapter should be another song interlude. We've ignored Ryu-chan long enough, don't you think?

Disclaimer: If I owned Gravi, I probably wouldn't have to work 50-hour work weeks, would I?

* * *

It was only later that I realized how ridiculously, stupidly, blindly lucky we had been. At the time it was happening, I wasn't thinking much past the point that Eiri-kun was kissing me. After, when I had regained some equilibrium, I was appalled at my lack of foresight. I was famous, famous enough to be recognized by a tired nighttime cabbie in Kyoto, famous enough to need tinted windows and bodyguards, and I had been kissing a minor boy in a public street without a care in the world. Through some sheer dumb luck, it seemed no one had seen. There had been no paparazzi present, I appeared in no tabloids, there were not even _rumors_. It almost seemed that fate had taken a hand that night.

But all of these things were what I thought later, much later, days after the fact when I experienced terror every time I looked at a newsstand, praying as I had never done before that Eiri-kun's name and face would not be linked with mine and splashed all over the papers.

That night, I didn't think of that. It was very hard to think at all, even after he had broken off the kiss and pressed his face into my coat, his hands still holding on to the fabric tightly as if I would move away and vanish. I lifted a hand to stroke his hair, soft and tousled and seeming to glow in the moonlight, and had no idea what to say.

In the end, he was the first to speak, his voice muffled by the soft wool. "I've wanted to do that for years. I thought you hated me."

The juxtaposition of these two statements was enough for me to find my voice again. "I never hated you."

_Years. Maybe even longer than me..._

"Why didn't you ever call to talk to me, then? You were always so distant, except when I could get away from here and throw myself into your life for a few days. Of course I thought you hated me."

"I never hated you," I repeated again. "I was scared of you."

"Scared?" He still spoke into my chest. His arms had come gradually to rest around my waist; it was clear he wasn't moving any time soon without provocation. "Why would you be scared of me?"

"Because I wanted you and thought I shouldn't," I said on a sigh, burying my face in his hair. It smelled fresh, like some kind of citrus fruit maybe, and was soft as it tickled my nose. It seemed the time for lies and pretense was past.

"And now?" he asked cautiously.

"I'm still not sure I should."

"But?" he persisted.

"But I want you anyway."

He seemed to relax further. "I'm happy. No one else wants me, just for me." I pulled him closer in reaction to the loneliness in that statement. We stood like that for a few moments. My head was reeling with the enormity of what had happened. He finally voiced the question that was on both of our minds. "What happens now?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. I had never thought past that first moment of contact, probably because I had been sure I would be pushed away and rejected, and had only gone to him in hopes of some closure. But it seemed the story I had thought was ending was only beginning. "I should take you home. We've been here a long time. They'll worry about you."

"What about you?" he asked. "Where will you go?"

I thought about the work I should do in Tokyo in the morning. I thought about all of the things I had left undone to rush over here. I should have gone straight back to the airport.

I didn't want to leave Kyoto yet. "A hotel, probably."

"You could stay with us," he said, sounding a little hopeful.

"I shouldn't," I said firmly. "I couldn't explain to Uesugi-san why I was dropping in unannounced at such a late hour."

"I guess not," he agreed sadly. Then, "Will you leave in the morning?"

I knew I should. "Do you have school tomorrow?" I asked instead.

"Yes," he said.

"Do you want to skip it?"

He moved up to look at me for the first time since I had kissed him. His smile was so bright I felt its warmth physically all the way through my body. I felt myself returning it, feeling a little foolish, completely optimistic, and wildly in love. "That's the second-best thing I've heard today."

* * *

I spent the next day with him in Kyoto, wandering, doing whatever struck our fancy at the time. It was a crisp, sunny day with none of the bite of the coming winter. I rented a car in the early morning. When I picked him up two blocks outside of school, he hopped in, kissed me on the cheek as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and threw his uniform jacket and school bag into the backseat, losing the anonymity of the schoolboy just that easily.

I probably smiled more that day than any other in my recollection. We acted like stupid tourists, visiting shrines and castles, shopping centers and restaurants. Once, Eiri-kun pointed up at a billboard with Nittle Grasper on it and grinned at me. "What beautiful people," he said, mischief in his eyes. "You don't look like that most of the time."

"No?" I asked, studying the glossy image of the three of us, along with the advertisement for our latest CD. Ryuichi-san was in stage mode, his glance inviting, his posture oozing sensuality. Noriko-san was flirtatious, with her arm around my shoulders and her eyes glittering. But me... I thought I looked as I always did, only with a little polish added on top, a little carefree sexuality that came more from my clothing than anything.

"Your real smile is kinder," Eiri-kun told me. "You're a little aloof up there. Beautiful and cold."

"You think?" I studied the image some more.

"Maybe because you smile for real so rarely," he continued. "I've only ever seen it twice before today." He leaned against me for a brief moment, then moved away, mindful of the people around us. "I like it when you smile."

I barely stopped smiling for the rest of the day.

* * *

We ended up on the outskirts of town, walking along some deserted park paths by a long forgotten temple that was falling badly into disrepair. The only way we were keeping track of time was by the fading sunlight. I had switched off my cell phone early that morning and left my watch in the car. Time seemed of secondary importance. It was getting dark, but Eiri-kun showed no signs of wanting to return to town. School would be long over for the day, he should have been in cram school, but he hadn't mentioned it, so I hadn't either. It was just too surreally beautiful to be walking with him in the half darkness, his hand in mine since there was no one there to see and comment on it.

"Will you go back tomorrow?" he asked.

"I have to," I said with genuine regret. "I have to work." I had a feeling Noriko-san had covered for me today; she had, after all, prompted this whole thing. But I didn't think K-san would take too kindly to one of us vanishing again, and he would certainly take it like that if I missed two days in a row. He might think to look for me here, thinking I had also "run off to get married like an idiot", and then I would be hard-pressed to explain exactly what was going on and that he was worried about altogether the wrong Uesugi sibling. I stifled a laugh at that thought. "I'm sorry."

"No, I understand," he said. "It was just so nice having you here and being able to just be _me_ for a day, and not worry about the color of my hair, or becoming a monk, or getting into college, or all the other things I usually have to think about. Thank you for that." He smiled at me. "Can I at least have your phone number, though? Mikarin refuses to give it to me, even when I resort to whining. I keep meaning to ask, but she won't let me talk to you at all. She's as protective as she is with her friends..."

I wondered with a sinking feeling if that meant Mika-san had guessed. But... no, surely not. She didn't see me often enough to guess. "Of course I'll give it to you."

"She would hate this, you know," Eiri-kun said, his voice and face turning serious. "She hates all the attention I get for being the oldest son. I keep telling her she can _have_ it, but she only glares and calls me ungrateful. She would really hate me for this."

I was silent, waiting for a continuation. When there wasn't one and I was forced to speak, I chose my words carefully. "Eiri-kun, what do you want? Right at this moment?"

"To be accepted. To be wanted." He leaned his head on my shoulder. "To be here."

"You know that in order to keep that, you will have to pretend none of this ever happened," I told him. I didn't want to analyze this too closely, afraid it would fall apart at the slightest provocation. I was still completely unsure of what I was doing, only that I had no real choice in any of it, because destiny seemed to have taken a hand in my life.

"I know," he replied. "That's all right. I'll make it be all right. But... will I still get to see you sometimes?"

There was a plea in his eyes. _Don't leave me. Don't push me away. No one else wants me. No one else loves me._ I could hear it as clearly as if he was speaking aloud. "I'll find a way, even if I have to keep buying overpriced plane tickets. I can afford it." I stroked his cheek lightly. "I need you, too."

"All right," he said. "Okay." He smiled tremulously. "One more question?"

"Ask."

A slight blush stained his cheeks, barely visible in the falling darkness. "Before we go back... will you kiss me again? It makes my head spin when you kiss me."

I was more than glad to comply.

* * *

"Good mor—OOF!"

"You look happy, Tohma," Ryuichi-san said cheerfully from where he was sitting on top of me, having just bowled me over with a particularly exuberant greeting I hadn't anticipated. I breathed in deeply, having had the wind knocked out of me. From here, there was no way to get up without unceremoniously dumping him on the floor, so I used my elbows to prop myself up instead, my smile immediate and genuine.

"Good morning, Ryuichi-san," I finished my earlier sentence. "I feel happy. How are you this morning?"

"Shiny!" was his immediate response. He looked at me for a moment, then grinned, got up, and offered a hand to help me to my feet. "I thought you'd catch me."

"I didn't hear you. You've been getting better at sneaking up on people."

He beamed. "I've been practicing with Kumagoro!" I noticed the bunny hanging limply out of the back pocket of the ridiculous oversized overalls he was wearing.

I began walking and he fell into step with me. I had been on the way out of a meeting with K-san, the director of the company, and a few others to discuss ideas on how to handle the media when we announced our hiatus in two weeks. We hadn't come up with anything conclusive. Noriko-san would have been there, but she had called to say she felt a little light-headed, requesting to stay home. As for Ryuichi-san, he had never been interested in the business end of the spectrum. He loved to sing and he loved to write; everything else was clearly nonsense in his eyes.

I had only arrived home from Kyoto in the dead of night, had slept like the dead for three hours, and still felt amazingly rejuvenated. It didn't seem difficult to keep smiling, suddenly. More and more often lately I had had to make a conscious effort. I had had a phone call from Noriko-san at around two in the morning, as I was steering my car towards home. "Are you coming home today?"

"I'm on my way," I had told her, turning down the stereo I had a strong desire to blast suddenly. "Did you cover for me today?"

"Of course, darling. Did you pull that stick out of your ass?"

It had been hard not to laugh. Two days ago, I might have snapped at her. "Of course, darling," I had said, mimicking her.

She had laughed delightedly. "You sound happy."

"I feel happy."

She had yawned. "Good. So I can go to bed and stop worrying about you now. You had better come see me later." She had hung up, and I had kept right on smiling. Clearly, I not only sounded, but looked happy. More than just Noriko-san and Ryuichi-san had noticed it.

"What are you thinking about, Tohma?"

"Absolutely nothing," I told him with a laugh. "You didn't have to come in today, did you?"

"I wanted to see you, and you weren't picking up your phone, so I thought you would be here," he said with a shrug.

"You came to work on a morning off willingly?" I asked, looking at my watch.

"I like mornings," Ryuichi-san said in a singsong voice. "And I've been trying to find you since yesterday."

"Oh?" I asked. "Did you need something important? I'm sorry my phone was off all day."

"No, nothing important," he said. "Are you hungry?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I didn't have breakfast," I told him honestly. I had been sleeping so fitfully lately that I had gotten out of the habit of using an alarm clock. I had not expected to sleep restfully the night before, so I had nearly missed the meeting as it was.

"Good," he said with a grin, grabbing my hand and swinging it back and forth with his as he pulled me in the opposite direction from where I was going and began marching towards the exit to the parking garage. "Let's go find breakfast."

* * *

At first, I couldn't understand how Ryuichi-san could stomach hamburgers at ten in the morning. However, when I resignedly took a bite of the one he had ordered for me, I discovered I was actually famished and that it tasted wonderful.

It hadn't been too hard to clear the restaurant of customers; there were few so early. All it took was a few hundred yen and Ryuichi-san's smiling at the lady behind the counter, and the place was ours for an hour. This was what we had to do whenever we ate out, and it was a perk I enjoyed. I had never really liked crowds and noise in restaurants.

"I like American food," Ryuichi-san said, his voice a little muffled since he was speaking through a mouthful of hamburger. There was already a bit of ketchup staining his cheek. "Anyway," he swallowed, his speech becoming a little more comprehensible, "I'm happy to see you smiling."

"I'm always smiling," I said.

"Yes, but I'm happy to see you smiling without trying," he replied. He was in that mode somewhere between childishness and brilliance when I never knew what would come out of his mouth. "Did you have a good time on your trip?"

"Trip?"

"Well, Noriko-chan said you were sick, but you weren't, so you must have gone on a trip," he said matter-of-factly. "Did you have fun?"

I laughed; he was perceptive as always. "Yes, I had fun."

"Maybe I should go on a trip," he mused. "Where did you go? I want to find a place that makes me come back smiling too."

"But Ryuichi-san is always smiling," I said, trying to be lighthearted, though this statement from him made me a little wary. He didn't usually talk this way.

"Yes, but I mean smiling without trying," he said. He had kept his sunglasses perched on his nose, but now he pushed them up on his head, using them as a headband, and I finally saw his eyes, narrow and perceptive, not at all child-like. "Ne, Tohma?" he said, phrasing it like a question. "Will you tell me? What does it feel like to reach your unreachable dream?"

I looked at him, my smile less and less certain, slowly bleeding off of my face.

He put down his hamburger, propping his chin on his hand. "I hope you tell me because, see, if you don't tell me, there's no other way I'll ever know."

* * *

"One new single, something really brilliant, will keep their attention for a few months. Do you have anything that will suit?" The next day, all three of us had been called into the office to continue the discussion from the morning before. Noriko-san, however, was dozing in her chair. K-san let her. That was the way she was lately, full of energy until she suddenly crashed, and then woe on the one who woke her. So we spoke in hushed tones.

I shook my head. "Only a few unformed melodies. I'll get to work on them right away so that Ryuichi-san can-"

"I already have words," Ryuichi-san suddenly said from where he was perched on the edge of the desk, Kumagoro in his lap. "They're all done. Will you write for me this time, Tohma?"

It was an unexpected request. Usually, I brought finished music and Ryuichi-san, with Noriko-san's help, found the words that went with it. On occasion, the three of us would sit down together, and the words and the music would come hand in hand. But neither of them had ever handed me finished poetry before. "Of course I will," I said, bewildered. "I didn't know you were working on anything."

"I wrote them yesterday," he said, smiling that deceptively open smile. _Is that smile not real? Is he forcing it? Is that what he meant yesterday?_ "After you went home." He dug into his pocket and pulled out a messily-folded piece of paper. "Here you go."

"Good, wonderful," K-san said with a wide smile. "You can manage a tune for that in a week, right, Tohma?"

"Of course," I said, slipping the paper into my jacket pocket without unfolding it. If he was giving it to me, it meant it was brilliant. I never questioned his talent. "I'll get to work on it right away."

"Good. I expect to record it in ten days."

Which meant unending rehearsals the moment it was finished. He wasn't giving us much time; the faster I set it to music, the better. "Before the press conference. We can mix and release it right after, and it should push us through a few months, anyway."

"I hope you like it, Tohma," Ryuichi-san said, his smile wide, his eyes guileless. The stuffed rabbit on his head looked more accusing than he did.

* * *

I didn't actually get a chance to see the lyrics until quite a bit later that evening. After I finally got home, I set upon making dinner. I felt like doing it myself instead of ordering in; I was actually a very decent cook, certainly better than Noriko-san, though Ryuichi-san managed to outdo me (years of raising children would have had to teach him how to cook, I supposed). It didn't really occur to me that I was putting off the composing. Once my solitary dinner was finished and I had cleared away the dishes, I actually headed towards the piano, but then my cell phone rang. "UESUGI", the screen told me.

"Moshi moshi?" I said, putting the phone to my ear. It was a little later than Mika-san usually called.

"Good evening, Tohma-san." The voice on the other end was hushed, but I recognized it immediately, felt my heart leap.

"Eiri-kun!"

"Is this a bad time?" he asked worriedly.

"No, of course not," I said, sitting down on the couch and forgetting all about the composing. "It would be all right even if you called in the middle of the night. Why are you whispering?"

"Tatsuha is asleep and I can't call from another room."

"I see," I said with a sigh. I wondered why Mika-san was so adamant about keeping Eiri-kun away from me, but I didn't want to test it. We were walking on eggshells as it was. "Are you all right?"

"Sort of," he said. "I got into another fight at school today." He sounded more resigned than upset. "I don't even know what it was about. Just... stupid." He sighed. "I know I sound like a spoiled child, but I wish you would come back. Everything makes so much more sense with you."

My heart went out to him. "I don't think you sound like a spoiled child." I thought a moment. "You know, I recall promising you that if you got into high school, I'd try to get you out of there," I suddenly said. "If you can just wait two weeks, I'll look into it." I sighed. "It's going to be murder for about that long, but after, I can come to Kyoto, if you want me."

His voice brightened, though he was still whispering. "I do, I want you, come back! Two weeks?"

"Yes," I said, feeling warm inside. "But first we have to pull a song out of thin air and record it."

"In two weeks?" he asked. "Even you usually take longer, don't you?"

"I have about three days to put it together," I said ruefully. "I haven't even seen the lyrics yet. I don't even know what kind of song it is." I looked at the piano guiltily. "In fact, I should probably try to do something about it now. I meant to, after dinner. And you probably have school in the morning, so you should rest."

"All right." I couldn't help a little thrill that he sounded so sad to let me go. "It's really all right if I call you in the middle of the night?"

"It's really all right." I smiled into the phone, though he couldn't see it. "Good night, Eiri-kun."

"Good night."

I hung up and sat for a moment, the phone in my lap, smiling softly. Such a little thing shouldn't have made me so happy.

_I do, I want you, come back!_

The smile widened. All I had to do was create the next hit first, and then I could go to Kyoto. I pulled Ryuichi-san's lyrics out of my pocket and began to read.

_So who was I, when you first touched me?  
__I don't know anymore, don't you see?  
__I could have been those things you couldn't be,  
__Except I lost myself along the way..._

By the time I was halfway through the sheet of messy handwriting and scratched-out words, the smile was almost gone.

* * *

I felt physically drained by the time the press conference and release of the single were over. The new song, _Believe Me_, was an unprecedented success. Even for us, the reactions to it had been astounding.

_"Edgier and more desperate than ever before,"_ the critics wrote. _"Raw. Electrifying. Powerful."_

"We can ride this wave for months," K-san had told us ecstatically when it opened as number one on the charts. "You geniuses have just bought us a lot of time."

Noriko-san had cried, hugging both of us, thanking us over and over, while we kept telling her that she was being ridiculous. K-san dismissed us, telling us to go out and have a good time, but warning us that if either of us came back married he'd shoot no matter who was acting as a shield. There was a farewell party, everyone got a little tipsy (except Noriko-san, whose glass Tetsuya-san wisely kept taking away), and everything had an air of carefree jubilation.

But the entire time I watched Ryuichi-san, and wondered.

Still, just now he wasn't at the forefront of my mind. I had a very important turnaround to stage that day. So I put my exhaustion away as Mika-san bowed me into the house, and played polite guest for a few hours before bringing up my key point.

"I've been thinking about Eiri-kun's school problems," I said. "I think I may have found a solution for you." After all, this had to look like I was doing a favor for a family friend, nothing more. "As you know, I've come upon some free time suddenly," I continued. "I decided to work a production job at Shinjin's sister company in the United States. I always like to stay busy, after all."

There was an approving smile on Uesugi-san's face; clearly he thought this was the good and proper thing to do. I couldn't see Eiri's expression clearly; he was hiding his eyes.

"I then thought that a good knowledge of the English language is one of the key points to getting into a good university here in Japan," I continued. "It would have been fortunate if I had had a chance to go to America when I was in high school; the Tokyo University exams were very difficult." I sighed, putting on a concerned look. "I know it isn't wise to seem like you're rewarding Eiri-kun's misconduct in school, but Mika-san tells me he is getting high grades now, isn't that right, Eiri-kun?"

"Yes, Tohma-san," he said, looking up, trying desperately to hide the hope in his eyes. "I want to be an honor to my family." I could have kissed him for playing along, if that wouldn't have ruined the whole thing. "Still, I do agree that English is very difficult. I wish I had a better grasp on it before I take my entrance exams..."

"Well," I said, taking the conversation back into my own hands, "I have already purchased an apartment in New York. I should be leaving in a few weeks." Sweet smile, going in for the kill. "It occurs to me I could help you out. I'd like to take Eiri-kun to New York with me."


	12. Interlude: Believe Me

**Shooting Stars**

**Interlude: Believe Me**

* * *

Author's Notes: What kind of song could Ryu-chan have written that it even had Tohma sitting up and taking notice? After all, Tohma's been pretty clueless about his singer's feelings up till now, but I have a strong feeling he's finally adding two and two…

Disclaimer: My lyrics. Yes, that's right. Mine. I disclaim nothing. Take and die.

* * *

**Believe Me**

So who was I, when you first touched me?  
I don't know anymore, don't you see?  
I could have been those things you couldn't be,  
Except I lost myself along the way...

I never said that I was sane, you know,  
And sometimes when the words just start to flow  
I'm kind of scary, and I know,  
So I just smile because there's not that much to say...

But well, I think you know, hey,  
It doesn't matter anymore, anyway,  
And hey, you know, I might say I'm okay,  
And you'll believe me, you'll believe me...

So who were you, to tell me what to feel?  
And what am I since I don't think I'm real?  
Why don't you catch me when my senses start to reel?  
Just so you know, I'm being torn apart...

I don't have that much left to say to you;  
At least, there isn't much you'd think was true,  
So I'm not gonna bother, 'cause you don't have a clue,  
And I'm too tired to fight you for my heart...

Good-bye, I guess, because, you know,  
I'm tired of being something I could never show,  
And even though the tears might start to flow  
It's all okay because there's no one here to see...

And well, I'm sure you know, hey,  
It doesn't matter anymore, anyway,  
And hey, you know, I might say I'm okay,  
And you'll believe me, you'll believe me...

You'll believe me,  
Why not believe me?  
Just believe me,  
Won't you believe me?  
You'll believe me, you'll believe me...


	13. The Benefits of Insomnia

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Eleven: The Benefits of Insomnia**

* * *

Author's notes: Um... I think I must have unfulfilled desires or... something.

Or maybe it's like Kaikan Phrase. The virgin always has the best imagination? I don't know. But why am I always writing things like this, then? It's M to be safe, though I got a grip on myself and made it nice and vague. I don't need ff.n giving me problems...

And even though he's not on my list of favorite people... dear God. GO EIRI-KUN!

Disclaimer: They're not mine. If they were, I'd set up a webcam...

* * *

"I feel a little like I've just stolen the Mona Lisa. And it was incredibly easy."

"Giddy, you mean?" I laughed, letting the stewardess stash my bag in the compartment above our seats and settling into the comfortable chair. Eiri-kun had already settled into the seat next to the window, and was beaming at me as he unwrapped the scarf Mika-san had tied around his neck and stuffed it into his coat pocket. It was dreary outside the window, and I wasn't sure whether it was snow or freezing rain that was pouring from the sky, but either way, the weather was foul and unwelcoming. Inside the brightly lit first class cabin, it was as warm and bright as summer.

"Maybe a little," he said, with something bordering on a giggle.

The truth of it was, I understood the feeling of having just committed the crime of the century. After all, here we were, in the half-empty first class cabin of a US Airlines airplane, complete with smiling blonde stewardesses who spoke only elementary Japanese and glossy English-language magazines in the pockets of the seats in front of us. Even if we hadn't left Narita Airport yet, it really did feel, quite clearly, that we had gotten away with something spectacular.

I had actually felt much more nervous than I let on for the past two days, with the entire Uesugi family staying in my house and practically breathing down my neck. I had had to regress to being carefully, coolly polite to Eiri-kun, knowing that any shift in attitude would be noted and commented upon by my fiancée, who was watching her brother like a hawk whenever he was around me. After a few hours of such intense scrutiny, he had simply stopped talking to me altogether, pretending to be largely indifferent. I knew it was feigned; it still hurt. Seeing him smile now was like a breath of fresh air.

This trip, once it was agreed on, had been put together with dizzying haste. In a way, I was worried that someone would realize just what I was doing and put a stop to it. On top of that, I genuinely wanted to get Eiri-kun out of the stifling environment of his school; quite aside from my ulterior motives, I really did believe he would do better overseas where he wouldn't have to be quite so self-conscious and his father wasn't ominously hovering, watching over his shoulder to make sure he was doing the "good" and "proper" thing. Therefore, I had purchased tickets the very next day, and not a month later (barely enough time for Eiri-kun to acquire the proper visa) at the very start of his winter vacation, we boarded the plane that would take us away from Japan, to a place where it seemed anything was possible.

"Please pardon us for the delay, and welcome to US Airways flight 630, bound for New York City, with a layover in Los Angeles, California," a pleasant female voice said in English. "Please be advised that our staff does not speak Japanese. We hope you enjoy your flight." This greeting was repeated in accented Japanese over the speakers, at which point we were asked to direct our attention to the uniformed woman in the front of the cabin as she demonstrated safety procedures. I leaned back in my seat comfortably, too accustomed to flying to pay attention, though Eiri-kun seemed to be taking all of this in raptly. I recalled that he had never flown before: Uesugi-san did not believe in vacations overseas, and for a trip to Tokyo, the Shinkansen was more than fast enough.

He was practically bouncing out of his seat with excitement by the time the plane headed slowly for the runway, looking like nothing more than a child relishing a new experience. Times like these, when I remembered he was, after all, only fifteen, were rare. Most of the time, his precocity made him seem a great deal older than he really was.

Once the plane had taken off, the flight attendant came by and politely asked for our drink orders. In stilted, faltering English words, Eiri-kun managed to ask for a glass of juice. The young woman smiled as though he was the most adorable thing she had ever seen as she poured it, then the tea I had requested. When she left us alone, the only sound was the plane's humming softly around us. There were only two or three other people in the first class cabin; I had specifically chosen a night flight in hopes of an emptier airplane. There were fewer security worries this way, and it had been difficult enough to talk K-san out of flying over with us to "make sure you get there safely". I was sure he'd check up on me in New York eventually, but this was time alone with Eiri-kun, and I did not want to give it up to anyone. I expected that I would be working too hard to enjoy his company as much as I liked once we arrived.

The first hour of the flight passed in companionable silence. Only a few minutes into the flight, Eiri-kun's eyelids began drooping. It was nearly midnight our time, after all, so I wasn't terribly surprised that he was dozing off. Pretty soon, his head came to rest on my shoulder, and I only smiled softly and tried to move as little as possible so as not to wake him. After a while, I pulled out the headphones and looked for a radio station I could stomach among those offered by the airline. The music was in English, and most of it was not to my liking. I flipped a few channels, gave up, and defaulted to a classical station. I had a slight headache from all the pressure I had been under, anyway. Mozart was always good for headaches.

The seatbelt sign winked on, and the speaker announced that we would be hitting some turbulence. Eiri-kun stirred, then opened bleary eyes to look at me inquisitively. "We're there already?"

"Not for a few hours," I said softly, my hand coming up automatically to stroke his hair. "You might want to go back to sleep," I added. "It's going to get shaky for a while. You'll feel better if you sleep through it."

"Why haven't you been sleeping?" he asked. "It's the middle of the night." He yawned widely, clearly struggling to keep himself awake. "Aren't you tired?"

"I can never sleep on airplanes," I told him. Even in first class, in the wide, comfortable seats that leaned back almost parallel with the floor, I was unable to sleep. I had always been jealous of Ryuichi-san's ability to lose consciousness within moments of take-off; it seemed Eiri-kun would be the same. "I'll sleep when we land." I could probably manage to make it through the layover and all the way to New York before I was too tired to see straight. I was becoming a champion insomniac. I winced as the plane began to shake with the promised turbulence; I was going to have a monstrous headache by the time the flight was over. "Don't worry about me. Did you want to lean your seat back and get a pillow and blanket?" I asked. "It might be more comfortable that way."

He snuggled up to my side, closing his eyes again, clearly halfway asleep already. "I'm comfortable here, and you're warm. I don't need anything," he murmured, and was out just that quickly.

Moments later, a flight attendant came by and spread a blanket over him with a smile. "Your brother is very sweet," she whispered. "It's cool in here with the air conditioning. This should keep him from catching cold." She couldn't have been any older than Noriko-san, and she sent me a flirtatious glance.

As for me, I nearly blinked at her in blank-faced astonishment before remembering to tell her, "Thank you." _My brother?_ Apparently, it was true that Westerners thought all Japanese people looked alike. After all, about the only common feature between myself and Eiri-kun was... well, maybe our hair color counted, though mine was considerably lighter. We looked about as related as Ryuichi-san and I did. I wondered if we would be taken for brothers all the time now.

Then again... that might be a benefit. I couldn't quite keep the self-satisfied smile from blooming on my face. The stewardess blushed a little, clearly thinking it was meant for her, then withdrew after I said nothing. Eiri-kun shifted slightly against my side, settling in a little more comfortably. The peaceful Mozart sonata in my ears was replaced with a rowdy mazurka, and the plane was shaking, but I still smiled as we traveled over the ocean. Though I couldn't sleep, the flight ahead didn't seem long at all.

* * *

By the time we had arrived in New York nearly thirty hours later, I was resorting to coffee every two hours like clockwork. The landing had been delayed due to the massive snowstorm that had hit the city and the consequent poor visibility. Eiri-kun had slept while the plane circled and I stared blankly at the screen at the front of the cabin that was showing some sort of movie silently (I had removed the headphones around the time my head started to pound) and wondering just how much longer I was supposed to withstand this torture. The winking off of the seatbelt light and the speakers informing us it was safe to disembark seemed like the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.

I shook Eiri-kun lightly to wake him. He had curled into his seat at some point after dinner, complaining that sleeping sitting up was making his neck ache. "Eiri-kun, wake up, we're here," I told him.

He was up immediately, rubbing at his eyes, his hair flattened on the side he had slept on. "Already?"

I thought about the endless hours and tried not to wince. "Yes, already." I stood and stretched, wondering if I could find some coffee in the airport that tasted halfway decent and would get me to the hotel we were staying in tonight. Which would also take longer than expected, considering it was mid-afternoon but the snow swirling outside made it seem like late night. "You'll want your coat. It's below freezing outside."

I got our coats and bags silently. Eiri-kun was bright eyed and awake, and I actually briefly considered hating him for it before dredging up a smile instead. It wasn't his fault I couldn't sleep.

"You look like the living dead," he told me candidly. "Did you really not sleep _once?_"

"Not since Tokyo," I told him.

He only shook his head, but grabbed both his bag and mine and refused to let go when I tugged on it. "Walk," he told me. "Try to do it without swaying, and without collapsing since I'm pretty sure I couldn't catch you."

After a moment, I let him order me around and walked in front of him down the hallway, out into the noise and commotion of the airport, and towards passport control. I could have blessed first class at this point, as we got through without waiting in any of the monstrously long lines. Our baggage had already been picked up and sent ahead by a politely smiling man in an impeccable suit who spoke flawless Japanese despite his Western appearance and introduced himself as Mr. Tanner, a representative of Fusion Records. He was quick and efficient, and within fifteen minutes we were sitting in the back of a heated limousine while the driver headed out into the swirling storm. With another polite smile, he handed Eiri-kun hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and me a cup of steaming espresso. The look of naked gratitude of my face must have been very apparent, since Eiri-kun suppressed a laugh and didn't even try to take it away from me like Noriko-san would have.

"Have neither of you been to New York before?" he asked politely. I settled for shaking my head, waiting for the caffeine to kick in. "I think you'll enjoy our city very much," Mr. Tanner continued. "It's a shame it's snowing so hard; the Christmas lights downtown are quite lovely. Hopefully you'll get a chance to sightsee a little in the next few days. It's very festive this time of year." He leaned back in the seat across from us with his own cup of coffee. "Very little gets done around the holidays anyway, so you should have some time to explore, Seguchi-san."

This was unexpected; K-san would have put me right to work and not let me see so much as the hallway outside the studio more often than once every few weeks. "Thank you," I said with a grateful smile. "I have wanted to see what America has to offer for quite some time, but I never got the chance to come here until now."

"We will assign you an interpreter if you wish," Mr. Tanner offered.

"Thank you, I think we should be all right without one," I replied. I spoke nearly fluent English, and I expected Eiri-kun would pick it up after a while.

"As you say," the other man replied with a nod. "Claude took care of most of your arrangements already; there will be someone to take you to your apartment and help with whatever changes you wish to make tomorrow."

We discussed a few other things as well, mostly the tentative scheduling of the work I would be doing here. I barely kept up my end of the conversation, and Eiri-kun didn't seem to be in a very talkative mood, choosing instead to look at what he could see of the city through the tinted windows and heavy snow, which wasn't very much. It was about five in the evening local time when we arrived at the Plaza, but the second we had checked in, I practically collapsed on the enormous bed in one of the rooms of the suite after taking the shortest shower of my life and nearly falling asleep under the blissfully warm water. I felt my consciousness going as Eiri-kun headed for the vacated bathroom, but I managed a muffled apology.

"Sleep," he said in that same authoritative tone he had taken with me on the plane. "I'm not hungry, it's snowing too hard to go anywhere, anyway, and you might start bleeding coffee if you have any more. I'll just read for a while."

I wrapped myself in the weightlessly warm comforter and fell asleep to the comforting sound of the shower running in the next room.

I only woke once during the night, when I turned over to discover something warm and solid pressed to my side. I half-opened my eyes to behold Eiri-kun, who had clearly been reading in the room with me and fallen asleep in the middle of his book again. I pulled the novel out of his loosened grip. He murmured something unintelligible in his sleep as I settled the covers over him. I was about to move to the other bedroom when his hand curled around my shirt. After a moment, I sighed, settled back into bed, and pulled him close. His head settled almost automatically into the crook of my neck and his slow breathing tickled my neck. I was smiling as I fell back to sleep.

* * *

We settled into our new life amazingly quickly after that. A week after we had arrived, we were settled into our apartment, I was settled into my work, and Eiri-kun was making his torturously slow way through a couple of English textbooks I had brought home. I had much more free time here than I had ever had in Tokyo; without performances at night, I only had to work eight or ten hours a day. After the hellish pace K-san had set, it felt like a vacation.

By the time Christmas had passed, it was a little difficult to remember the way life had been without him. It just seemed natural for him to greet me when I came home in the evenings, and to see his face across the table at dinnertime. I had hired a housekeeper that came to cook and clean during the day, but she was only there for a few hours. Still, Eiri-kun didn't seem to mind his solitude too much. I kept encouraging him to go out, see museums or shop or find some way to entertain himself during the day, but he consistently said he was fine at home. He read and watched a great deal of television in an attempt to learn some English before school started for him the week after the New Year.

Our relationship was somewhat ambiguous, though I tried not to give myself a headache about it. On the one hand, he would hug me often when I came home, tilting his face up for a kiss as often as not. Sometimes the kisses were light and friendly, but sometimes they would become deep until I felt my head swimming and it took all my self control to pull away, but pull away I invariably did. The response was almost always a mixture of confusion and a slight touch of gratitude in Eiri-kun's eyes. Sometimes the confusion was tinged with fear, and I didn't really know whether he feared me getting closer or pulling away.

He took my hand when we did venture out in public. I had a feeling that at first it had been a defense mechanism against the new location; it was loud and hectic and very different from Japan here. But even as his discomfort with his surroundings started to fade, he always reached for my hand. In America, no one seemed to think much of it. At least, we were rarely stared at.

Discounting our very first night in New York, we kept meticulously to separate bedrooms. I was pathetically glad the apartment I had found was so large, because I understood that on some basic level, if he ever crawled into my bed again when I was not half dead with exhaustion, a migraine, jet lag, and severe caffeine overload, I would not be content to simply hold him while he slept as though he was a child. It was very obvious, from the way he pressed up against me sometimes, the way he looked at me with a half-smile and those golden eyes half-closed, that he did not think like a child. I knew it, and I had the feeling he knew it too, since the performance of the first night had not been repeated. I had to keep convincing myself that I was doing what was best for him.

That wasn't easy. Sometimes I wanted to scream.

Which was why I was surprised and a little panicked to hear a knock on my bedroom door at one in the morning two days before New Year's. I had turned my lights off more than an hour ago, but was working mentally through some melodies I had been given by management to "fix" and could not get my mind to shut down. Still, we had retreated to our bedrooms over two hours ago-

"Tohma-san?" came his hesitant voice from outside the door. "You're not sleeping, are you?" I contemplated not answering, sensing boggy ground. "I know you're not asleep," he said after a moment, and opened the door, thereby taking the decision out of my hands.

He appeared in the doorway, wearing oversized, warm pajamas, his eyes large and owlish, reflecting a bit of the moonlight coming in through the window. It was a clear night, though they promised snow in the morning.

Knowing there was nothing else for it, I sat up and met his eyes. The air in the room was cool on my bare skin; I couldn't comfortably sleep in much of anything. Eiri-kun's gaze skimmed down my bare chest, lingered there, then rose to meet mine again. My mind was in full alert mode, but I didn't know what to do about it. "Can't you sleep?" I asked instead, marveling how steady my voice came out.

He smiled slightly, one of those smiles that had something a little wicked to it, and closed the door behind him with an audible click. "I think your insomnia is contagious," he told me. "Let's be awake together." He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.

I felt the air sizzle from his proximity and leaned back against the headboard in automatic defense. "I don't think that's such a good idea," I finally said. "Why don't you make yourself some tea? It may help put you to sleep."

That little smile didn't leave his face. He seemed to sense my pulling away, because he deliberately leaned against me, putting his head on my shoulder. "I don't want to sleep."

I felt my pulse racing, tried to suppress it. _He doesn't mean what he's saying. I need to get him out of my room and safely back into his own bed where he belongs._

"Do you not like me anymore, Tohma-san?" he suddenly asked, and laughed softly when he felt me jerk at the question.

"Eiri-kun, you're an intelligent boy, so I'm sure you know that's not the case," I said, trying to sound jovial and carefree. "But right now it's time to go to bed."

"We are in bed," he pointed out.

"That's not exactly how I meant," I said, feeling my face heat up.

"Tohma-san... are you still afraid of me?" he asked, turning to rest his chin on my bare shoulder, his eyes locking onto mine. On his face I read amusement tinged with a slight sheen of fear. It was the fear I had seen before, which made me wonder whether he wanted me to push him, or push away.

I chose not to answer this question. "Eiri-kun, the kind of control you're asking for from me right now is cruel," I told him, well aware by now that he knew the game we were playing every bit as well as I did.

In response, he only settled his arms around my neck, shifting and leaning forward so we were practically nose to nose. "I don't know what you think I'm asking for, when I left Japan and came here with you," he said quietly. "You've said before that you wanted me. If I didn't want that... would I be here?" He shifted again, leaning in to whisper into my ear, though there was no one to hear him. There was something about the moment that made it feel as though it would break at any noise louder than a whisper. His words were barely audible as he breathed them into my ear. "Go ahead. Lose control."

I felt something inside me snap.

My arms came around his waist, pulling him towards me, and he only managed one hitched breath before my mouth found his. His lips parted eagerly under mine as though this was what he had been hoping for, giving me freedom to taste the faint sweet remnants of the cocoa he had drunk before bed, and the taste underneath that was just him.

His hands were hot against the cool skin of my back, his fingers spread. He made a rumbling noise in his throat that almost sounded like a purr as my hands found my way under his shirt, stroked the feverishly hot silky skin. Then the shirt was gone, and the touch of skin to skin was almost more than I could take. I pulled his hips towards me, molding them to mine, feeling like I couldn't be quite close enough, and was rewarded with a surprised gasp before he seemed to melt into me until I wasn't quite sure where I ended and he began. His heart was pounding wildly and erratically against my chest, and the cool air of the room seemed to have heated to burning.

I think I whimpered a little, and then he was pulling me towards him, and we were falling in a flurry of blankets until I was pinning him to the bed, and he was saying something, nonsense words, demands, but I had stopped thinking and couldn't quite understand anymore as I rained kisses down his neck and chest. His back arched as the kisses reached his navel and his hands fisted painfully in my hair. "Please..." he choked out, his voice breaking. At about that point, I lost all ability at coherent thought.

My eyes only met his one more time after that, and he smiled at me even while his eyes were dark and glazed with passion. With hose eyes and that smile, he managed to answer the question I couldn't find enough breath to ask. He shivered a little as I looked down at him trying to catch my breath and regain my sanity, then reached out his hands and pulled me down. And it turned out I didn't need my breath or my sanity after all.


	14. Afterglow

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Twelve: Afterglow**

* * *

Author's notes: Omigod, it's the last "happy" chapter. But I have to say, it's so cute and sappy and fluffy most of the time that you may end up with cavities from reading it. Except the end which, if you're anything like me, will make you wince.

Oh, on a personal front, many of you know I'm leaving in a couple of weeks for school in Europe. Updates may be scarce for a while (I'm not sure if thirteen will be finished before I leave) but I swear this story will eventually be finished!

And on another note, I miss Ryuichi :sniffle:

Disclaimer: If I owned them, I would let Tohma shoot Kitazawa first. He wouldn't have guilt over it.

* * *

The world was so quiet during a snowfall. Even New York, so brash and unashamedly loud, seemed to fall into a still hush as the blanket of snow spread over it. The only sound was his soft breathing where his head lay pillowed on my chest. He had fallen asleep with one of his hands holding mine, fingers loosely laced together. His breaths were deep and quiet, and I could halfway see his face where it wasn't covered by a curtain of golden hair. He was smiling softly in his sleep.

The light outside the window was a pale gray, which told me that dawn was coming. I had slept deeply and dreamlessly for a few hours, which had seemed to be enough to fuel me. I had awakened feeling a groundless panic, then I felt his weight curled against me and relaxed. That he was there when I woke was my personal miracle.

I let my free hand whisper over his hair, stroke lightly down his back. He was so thin, so delicate. I hadn't been quite prepared for that, for the utter fragility that he somehow, without reservation, had trusted to me. It was all just a little surreal, with him sleeping curled into me like an exhausted kitten, his heartbeat slow and regular against my side. Nothing had been quite real since the first flash of heat, it was still not quite real now, in this somehow heavy, soft warmth that seemed to saturate. I knew that in theory the heat had been on low all night, but here, under the weightless down comforter, with his hand still in mine and his breaths light against my chest, I was warm.

I stroked my hand down his back again, felt him stir, murmur something, tighten his grip on my hand, then relax. He was clearly on the brink of waking, so I stilled my hand so as to let him sleep. Even with that precaution, moments later his golden eyes blinked slowly open and he rested his chin on my chest to regard me. Though there was sleep in his eyes, it was quickly melting away to be replaced with awareness. "Morning," he said in his broken English, punctuating it with a yawn.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Morning," I replied just as casually, letting a small, satisfied smile drift to my lips. In its own way, this moment was just as amazing as some of what had occurred last night.

He linked his fingers more firmly with mine and smiled, then blew up, trying to get some of his messy bangs out of his eyes. It didn't really work, only served to make him look hopelessly adorable. Unable to help myself, I stretched to kiss him lightly on the nose. "I'm hungry," he told me in Japanese after he giggled at the gesture. "And I hurt."

I winced. "I'm sorry."

"Hmmmm," he said, pressing his face into my chest, muffling his voice. "I'm not."

He pressed a light kiss into my chest. I felt heat there, a heat that seemed to spread to envelop me again, until the light, teasing touches didn't seem quite enough. The kisses began meandering slowly downward. "Get up, or at least stop that," I told him, letting my head fall back and closing my eyes, still riding a delirious high. "You're in no shape-"

"Tohma," he said, stretching the vowels on my name and leaving off any honorific, "when are you going to stop thinking for me?" His voice was tinged with amusement, though I couldn't see his face where he had disappeared under the covers.

I was already floating, only halfway coherent. "Superior logic," I managed. "I yield..."

He only giggled again from somewhere under the comforter.

* * *

It was well past dawn by the time we had actually made it out of bed. I let him have the shower first, then spent fifteen minutes being beaten by the boiling spray. By the time I was out of the bathroom, I felt so limber and relaxed I could have crawled back to bed. Instead, I belted my robe and headed for the kitchen and the fascinating and unexpected smells of food coming down the hall.

It was the housekeeper's day off, which to me meant that I should be cooking, but Eiri-kun had beaten me to the stove, wrapping the housekeeper's ridiculous pink apron over his robe and stirring something in a frying pan, looking very focused. I couldn't help the clichéd gesture and walked up behind him, sliding my arms around his waist and resting my chin on his head. I regarded the frying pan; its contents actually looked like a fairly passable omelet.

"You cook?" I asked with a mild surprise. I had never seen him so much as try before.

"Mrs. Smith has been teaching me," he replied, still staring unblinkingly at the eggs. "I was bored and she seemed like she wouldn't mind company. Somehow she ended up making me help. Then I discovered I like it."

"That apron is certainly... colorful," I told him, not bothering to keep a straight face.

"Go make coffee and stop distracting me, or I'll burn your eggs," was his only reply. "On purpose," he added, when I didn't move fast enough to suit him.

Swallowing a laugh, I went to the coffee machine, still smiling. It was shaping up to be a perfect morning.

After breakfast (which _was_ actually quite passable) I sighed in regret and went back to my bedroom to get ready for the day at the office. I would have to leave fairly early to compensate for the thick flakes of snow falling outside my window. I made a habit of never being late.

He came up behind me then, rested his cheek on my back as I was turning down the collar of a leopard print turtleneck. "Tohma." Just that, just my name, but it was enough to have me turn into him, let him settle into my arms, forget the clock for a little while.

"Is everything all right?"

"Everything's perfect," he said on a slight, contented sigh. "I'm happy."

I kissed the top of his head, marveling how absolutely _natural_ it felt to wake up with him in the morning, to wake up with laughter, to watch him making almost-good eggs in a ridiculous apron. It felt like everything had fallen into place. "Perfect," I agreed. "You're so beautiful," I said, tipping his chin up and kissing his lips lightly. I let myself relax for one more moment before speaking again. "And I'm late for work. Now you're the one distracting me."

He still didn't let go. "Tohma," he said slowly, "you'll... stay with me, right? I feel so safe around you. Everything makes sense. So will you? Even though everything's so complicated?"

I felt love wash over me like a warm wave. "Here, everything's simple. But even if it gets complicated, I'll stay," I promised easily, never wondering what such a promise might cost me. "I'll be with you. Always."

"Always," he said contentedly. He tightened the embrace for a moment, then let me go and rewarded me with a sunny smile. "You're late for work."

I couldn't help smiling back. "I know," I told him, slipping into my jacket and throwing on a hat. "They'll survive."

That day I was late to work for the first time, but neither that nor anything else could bring me down.

No words of love were spoken that day, though it seemed they were implied. For me, it was still a concept far easier to stomach silently. For him... well, he gave his body, his innocence, and his blind, total trust. Whether he gave his heart, he didn't say.

I didn't ask.

* * *

Months passed, spring approached, and the new routine became so everyday I no longer thought about it. Work continued to be light compared to what I had been doing for years. I had plenty of time to compose now, sometimes even in the luxury of my home. I was seated at my piano many afternoons as the mild April sunlight washed over the room through the wide windows that looked out on the river. There were days that I was so busy playing that I didn't hear the door open and close, didn't notice footsteps until Eiri-kun slipped onto the piano bench next to me, content to lay his head on my shoulder, close his eyes, and listen. Those would always be some of my brightest memories of those days: the sunlight slanting across the expansive wood floor, the sound of the piano, his warmth against my side, nothing in my mind but my love for him and the music that it brought. Happy melodies, light ones, playful ones, the sort of thing I had rarely written before.

There were evenings, too, when we sat on the couch together, me with my lap full of documents, him with homework, both of us wearing reading glasses and content for the moment to say nothing, not needing to acknowledge the other's presence out loud.

Along with those mild days, those comforting evenings, came the nights, sometimes sweet and tender, sometimes full of flash and fire and mind-numbing passion. And with those nights came the mornings, soft and warm, lax muscles from hours of loving, warm heavy kisses, love games in the shower, shrieks and splashes, increasingly good breakfasts, smiles and casual touches, habitual good-bye kisses before each of us headed our way, content smiles, light steps, easy laughter...

I fell in love with him again then, moreso than before. It surprised me that however intense, insane, powerful the feeling, it only grew day by day. There was nothing static about it, it wasn't something I would ever grow used to. I had thought I would, but even after I had him, I only wanted him more. Every time I saw him, my pulse still raced. Every time he turned those gold eyes up at me, I warmth like a hug spreading through me. Every time he took my hand on those rare days off and dragged me to some museum or the hot new musical, it was like the first time, a new kind of first.

I loved him to the point of pain, and stopped thinking beyond the next day, letting the feeling carry me along.

I kept in contact with his family in Japan and my associates at Shinjin, but that was a world that seemed unimaginably far away now. Here, there was no need for sunglasses, limousines or bodyguards. I hadn't been on stage in months, and though I missed it, the anonymity balanced the longing.

"You sound content, like a sleepy cat," Noriko-san complained to me one morning when she caught me on the phone on my way in the door. "It's really unfair when I can barely get out of bed without the help of a forklift."

"But you're content, too," I told her with a carefree laugh, leaning against the wall for a minute, smiling at the pleasure hearing her cheerful voice brought me. "And I'm sure you can afford a forklift."

"It's not that bad, really," she admitted. "I like being pregnant. I'm going to miss her when she's born... and that sentence really did make sense before I said it." I could imagine her making a face at the phone. "I don't know what women complain about, really. About the only indignity I've suffered is a loss of balance, and I'll get it back. I'm going to do this a dozen more times, I swear. It's _fun_."

I winced. "The world may not survive thirteen miniature Noriko-san running around," I teased. "It would be Armageddon."

I actually heard the raspberry she blew at me. "I'd hit you, but you're too far away. When are you coming back, incidentally? Will you come when the baby's born?"

"When is she due?"

"Any day now," Noriko-san said cheerfully. "You should pack up and come wait with us. Ryu-chan's already moved into my apartment and refuses to leave. I would have put him on the phone, but he's been in bed for hours. I can't sleep again. Your insomnia is contagious, even over the telephone."

"Eiri-kun tends to agree with you. About my insomnia, I mean," I said, walking into the kitchen, waving a hello to Mrs. Smith who was busy with dinner, and rummaging one-handed in the refrigerator for a cold drink. I avoided the question about my return neatly, and she seemed willing to be distracted.

"How is he? Other than not sleeping?"

"Well," I told her cautiously, taking a sip of juice. For some reason I couldn't name, I kept my relationship with Eiri-kun secret from my closest friend. Perhaps it was because I felt Ryuichi-san shouldn't be told, or perhaps simply because I wanted to keep him greedily to myself. "He seems to be struggling with English a little, but he's enjoying his school. He has friends now. His father is content, too. This trip was a good thing for him."

"Tell him I say hello," she replied cheerfully. "And get a few days off, Tohma-kun. Get down here when my baby's born."

"I'll try," I told her. "The group I'm working with down here is about to have a CD release. It's a little tight." I grimaced. "I almost have to spoon-feed them music. The singer's really gifted, and the others _play_ all right, but it doesn't seem like any of them have a speck of creativity. Their lyricist and I do everything. I'm sure not _everyone_ out here is an imbecile, but getting these people on the charts is an uphill battle. And apparently that's how the music industry works out here. No one writes their own music."

"You must really hate that," she said sympathetically. "Letting someone else take your music."

"I'm leaving all of the best things for you two, don't you worry. No American band is going to steal our number one hits," I said with a laugh.

"Good." She giggled appreciatively, then yawned loudly. "I think I might actually be getting tired. May wonders never cease. I'm going to bed before my crazy brain changes its mind."

"You've always been crazy," I said as a parting shot. "Good night, Noriko-san."

"Come back for the baby," she told me again, her voice already heavy with sleep. "Make time. And try threatening your lazy artists with a gun. It's what K-kun would do." On that cheerful note, she hung up the phone.

I shook my head at the silent phone before setting it back on its charger and heading into my bedroom to change into something more comfortable, since Eiri-kun liked the heat in the house up so high. I had only managed to remove my shirt when I was literally pounced from the back, hands coming up my chest, a kiss punctuated with a quick bite that sent a shock through me landing on my neck. His eyes held suppressed laughter as I whirled around, half-lifted him off his feet, and kissed him thoroughly. When we broke apart, we were both breathing hard. "Hair-trigger sex drive," I teased him fondly.

He was still on his toes, his hands clutching my shoulders, as he let out the laugh and shook the hair out of his face. "I'm a teenager, so I'm entitled," he informed me. "And you don't mind." He released my shoulders and slid his hands experimentally up my back.

I laughed too. "Let me get dressed. Mrs. Smith is still here. We'll pick this up where we left off later." I contented myself with a light kiss at the pulse point just under his ear, then moved away to rifle through my closet as he bounced on the bed. "How was school?"

"Fine," he said. "I failed another English test, though."

I slipped into a loose tunic and regarded him with a mildly displeased expression. "Not what I want to hear," I told him dryly. "Not what your father will want to hear, either."

He wilted under the look I was giving him. "It's not my fault the teacher refuses to explain slowly," he muttered. "The school counselor suggested I get help outside of school, or I'll fail the class."

"I wish I had the time to do it," I said with a sigh, sitting down next to him. "But business is picking up, and I barely have enough time at home as it is. Besides, my hours are irregular at best."

His hand came to rest comfortably, familiarly on mine. I automatically turned my hand over, linked fingers. "I'll find a solution," I promised. "Maybe we'll get you a tutor, like I had when I was studying for entrance exams. I'll ask your school's administration."

* * *

From the very beginning, there was something about Kitazawa Yuki I didn't like. It was odd, because at first I couldn't put my finger on it. He was polite and jovial, with a biting sense of humor and excellent credentials. He was at the top of his class at New York University, studying education. He was willing to come to our home every day for two hours and help not only with English, but every other subject.

Eiri-kun took to him right away. Perhaps that was what I didn't like at first, since the man gave me no other reason to criticize him. He was prompt and efficient in his work without being boring, and a week after he had started coming, Eiri-kun's grades in all his subjects began to rise.

On top of his other merits, he soon offered to take Eiri-kun out into town when I was too busy, to visit tourist attractions, parks, museums, and so on. I should have been grateful that Eiri-kun had managed to make a friend, that his grades were improving, that he had something to occupy himself while I sold yet another worthless group of idiots calling themselves musicians to the less-than-discerning public.

But when I saw Eiri-kun seated at his desk, Kitazawa leaning over him, speaking instructions softly as the boy nodded and scribbled, I couldn't help a tug of dislike and distrust.

"He's very bright and catches on quickly," the tutor told me one afternoon as Eiri-kun was putting his books away. He smiled, his face friendly, open, honest. "He's a pleasure to teach."

"I'm sure he is," I said, trying to keep the groundless irritation out of my voice. All he was doing was complimenting Eiri-kun's learning skills. "I appreciate what you've managed to do for him."

"The pleasure is mine, believe me," Kitazawa replied promptly. "Eiri says you'll be leaving soon while your... friend in Japan has a baby? He wasn't too clear on the details, but he could stay with me while you go."

I felt something very near panic and dread. "No, I'm afraid those plans got canceled because I am needed too badly at work," I said, though I really had been planning to leave for a few days. "Thank you for your kind offer."

"Oh, anytime," he said with another of those open smiles, and patted my shoulder in that way Americans had of touching you even if you weren't close. It was hard not to flinch away. "He's a pleasure."

"Yes," I said. On that point we agreed.

After he left that day, Eiri watched me inquisitively for a few moments before walking over to the armchair where I was seated and perching on the arm. "You don't like Yuki-sensei, do you?" he asked, bewildered. "Why not?"

"What gave you that idea?" I asked, trying to relax the frown I knew I was wearing off of my face. "He's an excellent tutor."

"Yes, he's an excellent tutor," Eiri-kun agreed. "But you don't like him, for all of that. Why not?" I stayed quiet, and after a moment, Eiri-kun giggled and leaned in, compromising his already precarious perch, until we were nose to nose. "It couldn't be, by any chance, you're _jealous?_" I only glared as he began to giggle, lost his balance, and ended up plopping rather heavily into my lap. "That's it, isn't it?" he asked.

"Not funny," I grumbled, feeling foolish. "You're too friendly by half with him."

Eiri-kun only kept giggling. "It's just because he's more American than Japanese. They're all touchy-feely around here. He doesn't _mean_ anything by it." I kept trying to erase my glare and he kept laughing harder. Finally he gave me a smacking kiss and curled into my lap comfortably. "Tohma, you need to worry less," he told me, settling his arms more comfortably around my neck. I pulled him closer, as if I could keep him from drifting away like that. "I'm yours," he said with a little sigh, snuggling further into my embrace. "No one else's. And you're mine. Don't worry."

How could I argue with something like that? It would have been petty and ridiculous. So I quietly put on a friendly front. I ignored the tugs of possessive jealously when Kitazawa's hands lingered in Eiri-kun's hair after ruffling it affectionately.

_It's just because he's more American than Japanese._

I ignored how he patted Eiri-kun on the back when he solved an equation correctly, ignored the way they sat on the couch side by side bent over the same book.

_He doesn't mean anything by it._

I ignored the adoring glances Eiri-kun turned up at him when he managed something particularly clever, ignored the shining gratitude and affection in those amazing golden eyes that was not aimed at me.

_I'm yours. No one else's._

I ignored a lot of things I should have been watching, because he had told me to stop worrying. And I didn't notice when Kitazawa started looking at his pupil in a positively dangerous way, or when he made their weekend outings a weekly occurrence, taking Eiri-kun not only to educational sites, but to such frivolous places as the zoo, to see a play, or to shop. I made myself ignore it, because it would be too terrible to contemplate if the naïve Eiri-kun was wrong about his beloved tutor's intentions.

_Don't worry._


	15. When Glass Dreams Shatter

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Thirteen: When Glass Dreams Shatter**

* * *

Author's notes:wince: Ouch. Ittaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii whimper I really hated writing this, which is the primary reason I took so long to get it out, far more than my move to France (I love it here, by the way). In any case, I did it… in a mix of anime and manga, since I only have the anime in front of my eyes here, but remember a few scenes from the manga as being more powerful, leading to me borrowing them. This is, of course, primarily a manga-based work… but I digress. Enjoy this overly long chapter as much as you're able and please don't blame me for canon. I really didn't want to do it either. 

Disclaimer: If they were mine, I wouldn't let this happen.

* * *

The end of that idyllic moment in my life when I was finally happy came so unexpectedly because it started so innocently. Spring was already giving way to summer, everything was blooming, and the days were becoming hot. Eiri-kun's school let him out for summer vacation the first week in June, and I managed to get a weekend off to fly him down to the seashore. There wasn't enough time to go back to Japan, not even for a little while, though Noriko-san's daughter had been born over a month ago, and she continued to guilt me into running off to Japan to see her every time we spoke on the phone. Eiri-kun's family wanted to see him, too, but when I asked him whether he felt like returning to Kyoto while he was on vacation, the answer I got was immediate and negative. "I'm happy here," he told me. "Even without school, there's more to do here than there ever was at home." 

I bought him his own computer to keep him occupied, and he sat at it for hours on end, sometimes late into the night, typing away. It seemed Kitazawa had put the idea into his head to try his hand at writing; this was the only idea of the tutor's that I did not find offensive in the least. At least this way Eiri-kun was well entertained, and if the process itself seemed to frustrate him, he positively glowed when he managed to finish something. I read a few of his efforts, and though I wasn't particularly knowledgeable in the field, it seemed like he had talent.

I should have caught myself becoming complacent, but it didn't really seem to matter—until the day everything suddenly and irreversibly changed.

It started innocently: with a visit from K-san. He had come a few times in the past few months, on visits that almost seemed more social than business, and to pick up any sheet music I might have lying around to give to Ryuichi-san when he got back to Japan. I had known he was in America again recently, but thought he was in California until he came striding into my office one day, tanned dark and grinning, wearing what looked like full riot gear, with two huge guns strapped to his back and another at his side. He plopped down in my chair (I was across the room watering one of my plants) and raised his hand in greeting. "There you are, Seguchi," he said cheerfully. "I was beginning to think you had used this opportunity to run away while I wasn't watching."

"No one runs from you unless they want to be shot in the back," I said with some amusement, taking the chair opposite my desk, relieved to have something to break the monotony of the paperwork I was doing instead of composing like I wanted to be.

K-san let out a laugh at my half-joke and patted the holster at his hip lovingly. "Oh, so very true," he told me cheerfully. "It's nice to see how well you know me."

I only smiled and rang for the secretary to bring in two cups of coffee. "To what do I owe this visit?" I asked, leaning back in the chair I kept for guests since he still occupied mine. "And what is all this about running away?"

"Ukai's been complaining," he answered. "Seems you're avoiding her. She expected you there to make fun of her when she was fat as a whale, I think. She's skinny again now, and terribly disappointed that she didn't get the chance to hit you and blame it on hormones."

I couldn't help a smile as the secretary brought in a tray with two coffee cups. That really was terribly like Noriko-san. "I haven't been avoiding anyone. I've just been…" I waved my hand absently at the convenient stack of papers on my desk, "busy," I finished. "Work. You should know what a sad state they were in here."

"Of course I did, which is why I sent you here to get them in line for us. How fortunate that I wasn't disappointed." His grin had something feral to it. "They're raving about you, and are ready to sell their souls if I reconsider taking you away from them."

"Away?" I asked dumbly.

He looked at me oddly. "In case you've been momentarily struck stupid, I'm glad to remind you, you have a little business called Nittle Grasper to think about," he said slowly. "Ukai's maternity leave is nearly over, Ryuichi is about ready to jump out of his skin with boredom, and the fans are getting restless. We need you back in Japan within a month, so wrap up whatever standing projects you have and get home, or I'll come and get you, and I don't think you'll like it."

I kept blinking, feeling like I was slow in comprehending exactly what was going on. "A month? Back in Japan?"

"You've been here half a year," K-san said impatiently. "You sound like you don't _want_ to rejoin Nittle Grasper."

"No, it's not that at all," I said automatically, still processing it. _I knew this couldn't last forever._ "I can't wait to be back onstage instead of behind the scenes."

"Good, I was beginning to worry," K-san said, still regarding me curiously.

"No need to worry."

"Perfect. Try to time it to be under a month. We'll be glad to have you as soon as we can, and that kid of yours can pick up the fall trimester back in Japan, and everyone will be happy." He paused. "You seem a little shell-shocked."

Quickly I cleared all traces of emotion off of my face. "Tired. Just tired, K-san." I smiled politely, coolly. "If you'll excuse me, I have more than ever to do if I'm to wrap up my affairs in a few weeks."

"August, Seguchi," he said, getting up. "I want you back in the office by August."

"Right," I said distractedly, using my coffee as an excuse to hide my eyes for a little while.

"August," he repeated, and walked out of the office.

* * *

I left for home later than usual that night. I had been telling the truth when I had told K-san that there was enough work for four normal men. The amount of work seemed to double the moment they learned I was leaving, and I spent most of the early, and then not so early, evening doing things that suddenly needed to be done _right then_ and could no longer wait for the next business day. I was more than a little harried and frustrated when I finally got out of the office, and nearly stalked to my car. For some reason, everything seemed to irritate me. 

_Of course everything irritates you. The beautiful dream is nearing its end. What will you do once it's gone?_

_How will you cope without him next to you?_

_Can you?_

My thoughts were dark and not entirely coherent as I drove home through still-snarled traffic. To calm myself, I popped in a tape of one of the groups I had been rescuing and attempted to concentrate on my job. I quickly realized that wasn't working, and switched it for the worn, old and well-loved tape of our first record. Generally, those songs served to comfort me, simply by virtue of being so very familiar.

"_Let the glass dreams shatter  
__Let the pieces scatter..."_

Mirthlessly, I sang along softly on the upper harmony, just as I had done on the recording, and at every concert since. Familiar words, familiar music, years old now, and still somehow I managed to find something new in them yet again.

Realizing my mood was becoming blacker as the song progressed, I replaced the tape with a more recent one, and listened through Believe Me twice, rewinding the tape to hear it again. For the first time, I wished Ryuichi-san's lyrics weren't always so heart-rending. I needed his voice, our music, to remind me of who I was, of what I was going back to, but at the same time his songs, able to strike a chord in my heart so easily, only made me sadder.

"Vicious cycle," I murmured to myself, and removed the tape. I drove the rest of the way in silence.

I could see the lights in the penthouse as I parked my car, and tried desperately to smile as the elevator took me up, but I found that I had grown unaccustomed to smiling when I didn't really mean it.

I was met with the sharply sweet smell of Chinese food when I unlocked the door. The television was chattering down the hall, probably turned on for company since I was so late. In the kitchen, Eiri-kun was eating lo mein out of a delivery carton, a book open on the table before him. When I walked in, he looked up and smiled absently. "Hi. I ordered in since you were so late. Hold on, let me finish this chapter." He retreated back into his book, leaving me to get a pair of chopsticks from the drawer and stare at the cartons, no appetite whatsoever.

A few minutes later, he carefully marked his place and looked up. He appeared a bit confused for a moment when he saw my full plate. "Are you sick, Tohma?" he asked, reaching across the table to put his warm hand on my forehead for a moment. "You seem a little off color."

I closed my eyes for a moment, leaning into the light, carefree touch, feeling a pang of something that resembled nostalgia.

_It isn't over yet, and I miss him already._

"I'm just tired," I said with a smile I hoped would pass for fatigued as opposed to sad. "It was a long day; I'm sorry for leaving you all alone."

"It's all right," he said, then took his hand from my forehead to shove the plate at me. "Eat a little, if you're only tired. Mrs. Smith would say you're just too tired to remember you're hungry." He returned to his noodles. "Anyway, Yuki-sensei spent most of the day with me. He only left about an hour before you came home. It's all right."

I did my best to eat, though the food seemed tasteless. "Did you go out somewhere today?" I pushed down the pang of jealousy as I had accustomed myself to doing.

"Just the bookstore," he said, casting a glance at the novel he had put aside. "This one's really interesting, actually. It's on the reading list for AP literature next year; I picked up three others from the list too. Not all the classics put you to sleep, apparently. I actually _like_ Hemingway; it's a lot easier to understand than some of the other things sensei's been giving me." He sighed. "I still think that class may be a little much for me, but Yuki-sensei says my English will be up to par by September. Anyway, it's supposed to be really helpful for getting into college here, since there aren't huge entrance exams like in Japan, and… why are you looking at me like that?"

With a start, I realized I had let my carefree expression slip, listening to him talk about his plans so comfortably. "You probably shouldn't have bothered buying the books," I said dully. "I doubt they'll cover the same materials in your Japanese high school. And your AP courses won't help you to get into university at home, either."

"Why all of this about my Japanese high school?" he asked, clearly confused. "It doesn't matter what they cover there; I don't _care_. I'll just stay here, finish high school, go to college. Yuki-sensei says-"

"What Kitazawa-san seems to have conveniently forgotten is that you're an exchange student, Eiri-kun. This arrangement wasn't ever meant to be permanent." I knew the words were coming out harsh, somehow wrong, but I couldn't seem to stop myself, despite the stricken look on his face. "We're going back at the end of this month," I finished heavily. "One semester abroad will have to suffice. In any case, you'll pass your English exams with flying colors."

He finally found his voice to speak. "I don't _want_ to leave."

"Unfortunately, that isn't your choice." _Nor mine_. "We should be back in time for you to pick up the second trimester, so enjoy what's left of your vacation. You don't have to study anymore if you don't want to. Kitazawa-san's services will no longer be needed, either."

"Tohma… I don't _want_ to go," he repeated. His eyes were hidden as he looked down at the table. "I like it better here, like this. Can't we just stay here?"

"This is not your decision to make. We're leaving in three and a half weeks. Enjoy what you're given."

He looked up, his eyes icy cold as I had never seen them, and glared at me. "And I don't like the way you're talking to me. You're treating me like a spoiled child."

"I can't help it when you behave like one," I snapped, on the end of my rope. _Does he think I'm _happy_ about this?_

Instantly, I knew it was the wrong thing to say, but it was too late. He looked as though I had struck him for a moment, then stood and turned away from me. I only saw his back as he spoke, but his voice was cold enough to freeze the air of the cozy kitchen. "I'm going to bed. I trust I'm still adult enough to decide when to do _that_." He walked out of the kitchen, and I heard a door slam down the hall, from the direction of the bedroom he hadn't used for months that only remained furnished to keep up appearances.

For a long time I sat at the table, letting my food grow cold and congeal in front of me, head resting in my hands, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders with no idea how to alleviate it.

* * *

The next morning, when I reached across the bed to turn off the screeching alarm clock, I was momentarily confused not to feel him there, warm and sleepy and hiding his face under the pillow as if to escape the noise. It was only a moment of disorientation, but then I sat up heavily, climbed out of bed, dressed in the first things that I could grab out of my closet, passing only a cursory eye over them to make sure they matched though I was usually very conscious of my appearance, and headed for the kitchen. 

That was empty too, and quiet. I brewed coffee with a small sardonic smile. _I had better get accustomed to mornings alone again._

His bedroom door was still shut, keeping me out as effectively as any lock, when I left for work.

I wasn't good for much that day, and looking at myself as objectively as I could, I was shocked to see what an argument with him was capable of doing to me. I had always seen myself as strong and unshakeable-Noriko-san had told me I had ice water in my veins-and yet something so small could leave me completely worthless.

I managed to get out early that day, mostly by virtue of the incredible, sticky heat that made everyone in the office wilt to a point where they no longer really cared whether any work got done or not. Even the air conditioning didn't seem to be able to save us, though it was turned up to maximum, and its quiet, steady whoosh was audible in every room. I left the office in early afternoon without anyone so much as trying to stop me. The only acknowledgement I received was a limp wave from one of the secretaries at the front desk and a half-nod from the security guard when I entered the blissfully cooler underground garage to get my car.

Traffic was vicious, as it always seemed to be when a heat wave settled onto the city. It took me three times longer than usual to get home, giving me plenty of time to think dark thoughts and berate myself for yesterday's comportment. The first thing to do was apologize for the things I had said and not really meant—after all, it wasn't Eiri-kun's fault that I had been shell-shocked, and it had been stupid of me to take it out on him.

The house was silent when I entered and headed to the kitchen for a lifesaving drink of cold water. I sighed with disappointment to realize he wasn't there, but then I spotted the note on the table. Forgetting my drink momentarily, I headed over and picked it up. I relaxed a little as I read it.

_Tohma,_

_I guess I should say sorry too for yesterday. It wasn't entirely your fault. Anyway, I went over to sensei's house; I want to see him a few more times before I have to leave, after all. I'm still mad at you… but we should talk about it when I get home, which shouldn't be later than seven. I don't like being mad at you._

_Eiri_

I couldn't help but smile a little at that ending, and my good humor was almost restored as I poured my water and headed back into the hall to turn the air conditioning up to maximum strength. Here it seemed to work better than at the office, and I soon felt lively enough to head into the living room and settle down at the piano to pick through a melody that had been developing at the back of my brain for a few days.

The thoughts that came with the music weren't entirely dark either. I knew it would be difficult to work through this relocation, far beyond difficult to be without him every day. I wanted nothing more than to take him with me wherever I went, to break ties with his family and tear him away if necessary, to give him the freedom he seemed so desperately to be seeking, a freedom we seemed to find only with each other. In this short time, he had become so much a part of me that I could no longer see myself complete without him. Though the words had never been spoken, I loved him more than I could have imagined, more and more as the days passed. That was something I realized I needed to tell him. There had been no words spoken, no promises made to tie him to me, and I could see that that was the sum of the reason I was so malcontent. I didn't know what was in the future.

_I want us in the future. I need to hear it from him, to know that whatever drastic steps I take will be because he wants it, too._

The melody changed, wandered through several keys before settling in E major, and began to work itself out. With the music, my thoughts also arranged themselves neatly into their proper places. If he loved me half as much, it wasn't surprising he had reacted the way he had. It wasn't just his freedom he was leaving behind here, but a tenuous future that threatened to disappear like smoke the moment we set foot back on Japanese soil.

But this didn't have to be the end, not if we needed each other enough, and I needed him more than the air I breathed, it seemed. When he came back, I would tell him, all this and more.

I relaxed then and let the music take me, which was why I didn't notice the time passing at first. When I hit a snag on the bridge, I happened to look up to see that the clock read seven-ten. At first, I tried not to worry, but the bridge simply wouldn't come, and the minute hand pushed relentlessly forward, to seven-fifteen, seven-twenty, seven-thirty.

By seven-forty-five I was no longer making attempts to work. I got up to pace a few times around the living room, then tried telephoning Kitazawa's apartment for the fifth time, receiving the short signals of a line in use. I threw down the phone with more force than strictly necessary, paced around the room once more, then gave up and paced down the hall and out of the apartment, barely remembering my keys.

Traffic was still snarled and moved at a snail's pace when it moved at all. It was late in the day but the heat showed no sign of diminishing, even with the sun beginning to set blood red behind the smog. I swerved into a parking space when I was still nearly ten blocks away, convinced I could go faster on foot, ignoring the blaring horns of the cars I had cut off and the creative curses of their drivers.

I started out at a fast walk, but my worry kept mounting, even if it was rather unfounded. Despite the heat which rose in waves from the pavement and pounded down from the sky, I broke into a trot, then a full-out run. People jerked out of my way as I ran headlong down the sidewalk, a few of them calling out, "Where's the fire?" in annoyed voices.

I was breathing heavily by the time I reached Kitazawa's building, but I took the stairs of the fire escape two by two, not bothering to go around to the main entrance, vaulting into the eerily silent hallway, throwing myself at the door just as the last gunshot rang out, knowing somehow even then that I was too late.

* * *

They say that times of shock, like nightmares, fade away at the edges and become fuzzy with time. They tell you it's easy to let yourself get swept along when your mind is broken and not recall it later. They say it's a merciful side effect, that the worst times in your life are the ones which will come to the forefront of your mind cloudy and surreal. 

They lie.

I remember every moment, every labored breath as I struggled to stay on my feet, the cramp in my side, the way my eyes squinted to accommodate for the dusk provided by lowered shades, the slight but unmistakable smell of gunpowder already being overpowered by the sickly-sweet smell of blood. I remember my heart pounding too loudly in my ears at seeing him, kneeling in a spreading puddle of blood, his pants around his ankles, clutching a gun in his hands, trembling like a leaf but not making a sound. I remember saying his name, my voice trembling too, and his indrawn breath as he turned huge eyes towards me, eyes filled with sheer terror before he recognized me and let the gun drop.

I remember falling to my knees, reaching for him, him jerking away for a moment before going limp in my arms and beginning to sob with a voice that didn't seem quite human with desperation, pieces of words, self-accusations, rage and grief and terror mixed into one. I remember kneeling there with him sobbing into my shirt, feeling the blood and tears seep into my clothing, the cavernous empty feeling in my mind as I told him, over and over, that it wasn't his fault, the meaningless apologies that spilled out of my mouth, the hot tears that flowed down my face.

I remember thinking that a neighbor must have called the police as I heard the sound of approaching sirens. I remember grabbing the gun behind his back with a vague thought towards erasing his fingerprints, and standing as the policemen rushed into the room, my face cold and impassive, my hands and clothing bloody, the gun still in my hands, trying not to look at the trembling boy huddled at my feet. I remember telling them I killed them, repeating it over and over until even I started to believe it, maybe because I wished it had been me who had done it.

They tore me away from Eiri-kun and took me aside to question me. Two paramedics tried to lead him away, but when they tried to touch him he reacted like a wild thing, kicking and clawing at them, his eyes like a cornered animal's, until the police had to let me take him down to the ambulance because he would let no one else near.

I answered questions mechanically, giving them our names, address, telephone number, anything they asked for. I stumbled on only one question. "What is your relationship to this boy?"

It took me nearly a minute to answer, a minute of fighting back a hundred wrong answers and tears that had not yet been shed. "His guardian while in New York," I finally answered. "His sister's fiancé. We aren't otherwise related."

They let me go in the ambulance with him after he lost consciousness, only because they were afraid of what he would do if he didn't see me when he woke up, based on his earlier violent reaction.

I remember every minute of the following hours at the hospital as he remained unconscious and I was questioned over and over by the police. Even in the state I was in, I managed to put together a coherent story, to tell it correctly, to keep it consistent until the police left me with the warning that I would go into holding once Eiri-kun's state was stabilized, leaving me with one guard standing unobtrusively in the corner.

I remember calling Japan, waking Mika-san from sleep, her silence, then her tears, the helpless disbelief in Uesugi-san's voice when I told him, the cold fury directed, rightfully, at me. I remember not even being able to tell them if Eiri-kun had truly been hurt, only repeating that it was my fault, and more tears, more hopeless apologies, Mika-san finishing by throwing down the receiver after saying she was coming to New York and a halfway coherent mumble to the effect of calling Noriko-san, because someone had to take me in hand, too.

I remember those hours of waiting, the feeling that my face had turned to stone to stay as calm as it was when I was screaming inside, his shallow, barely audible breathing as he lay in the hospital bed, and the crushing weight of guilt.

But even with all these memories so hideously crystal clear, there is one thing I remember most of all. I remember the moment when he jerked and sat up, his breathing suddenly whooshing in and out as if he had just run a marathon. I reached for him automatically then, and he didn't wrench away as my hand took his, but looked up at me. For a moment, his eyes were terrified like they had been in that nightmare room, but then the terror seeped out of them, replaced by blank confusion. He cleared his throat almost experimentally, as if he himself didn't really know why his vocal cords were so sore, and then he spoke. "Who are you?"


	16. Crash and Burn

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Fourteen: Crash and Burn**

* * *

Author's notes: Um, OK, so clearly insomnia is good for something. I have a cold, ergo sleep problems, ergo I made myself work on something _useful_ instead of staring at the ceiling all night, and ended up with chapter fourteen spilling out all in one go. Wow.

Can I just say, I don't like shrinks? sigh I've had enough negative experiences with them for my lifetime _and_ Tohma's, but here I go adding another one. God, this woman is a bitch, and reminds me of one of my former shrinks.

On the subject of genre, I'm torn. I could classify this story as romance/angst except that a healthy half of it is really funny, and I can't really classify it as romance/humor because this is about as far from a romantic comedy as we get. And I can't very well classify it humor/angst, can I? ARGH, I hate this "two genre" thing. Suggestions?

On a final note, this is the chapter where we actually get a lot of Mika. I've been itching to work with her, and she didn't disappoint. I really love the woman, actually. She's as appealing as any of the male characters in her own way…

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation. I own one of the remixes, though. The fact that there are still little white censor thingies in the remixes when they're that graphic is just really funny to me.

* * *

"It seems to be temporary memory loss, from the shock. The doctors told me he should start piecing things together within the next few days."

"Right," I said listlessly. "I'm sure the doctors know best."

"You look like death walking. I don't suppose I could argue you into sleep?"

I looked up at Mika-san with blank eyes, my cold hands barely warmed by the cup of stale hospital coffee I held. "Sleep? Now?"

"You're not helping anyone like this. Eiri's going to be asleep for hours, they said."

"I'm not tired," I said, only halfway lying. I probably _was_ tired, but too numb to feel the exhaustion.

She let out a loud sigh, clearly to show me just how difficult she found me. "Of course not."

Twenty-four hours after we had been brought here, I was finally starting to find some of that promised numbness and detachment. In any case, I wasn't painfully aware of each breath and beat of my heart anymore.

A few hours ago, K-san had appeared like magic at the police station where I was being held. It took only a few words from him to have me out on bail, something I knew I could have done myself if I had just cared enough to bother. He had taken me out to my car and reached out a hand wordlessly for my keys. After a moment, I had given them to him and settled back into the passenger side of the car.

He had started the car, but not pulled out of the parking lot for a few minutes. "So," he finally said. "This is a pretty story." For a wonder, he didn't seem to be in a murderous rage, though this was exactly the kind of thing that should have prompted it. I kept silent. "You three seem to have a gift for pretty stories. Did you really kill them?"

I looked at him expressionlessly, saying nothing. I didn't feel much like talking. My throat was sore and my head was aching from the tears that had been shed, but I was perfectly calm now, and knew it was easier to keep silent than try lying to him.

"Didn't think so," K-san sighed, and pulled out of the parking lot, directing the car towards the hospital. "Not that I don't think you're capable," he made this sound like he was apologizing for insulting me, "but it just doesn't fit. You have a good poker face, but if someone bothers to really look, they won't believe it either. It would probably be better if you just told the truth. You don't need a murder on your record; it's counterproductive."

I managed an icy glare. "I killed them," I finally said. "And I destroyed Eiri-kun. If you want me to say something else, I would have to lie."

He regarded me silently for a few minutes, his gaze penetrating, then nodded and returned his gaze to the road. "Whatever you say, Seguchi-san." I had an odd feeling of having passed from subordinate to equal in his eyes. "I'll deal with it. Just try to keep your story consistent."

I closed my eyes for a moment, reflecting on how tired I was. "Thank you."

We had driven in relative silence for a while, though after a few minutes he had switched the radio on softly. For a wonder, he picked a soft jazz station, obviously in thinking of my aching head. When he finally spoke again, his voice had some of its usual cheerful bravado. "Ukai wanted to come, you know, but her baby's sick, and Ryuichi's in Switzerland with his stepmother. That long-haired number of yours is really worth something to think of calling them before coming out here herself. She impressed me."

"Mika-san's here?" I asked dully, wincing internally. "I should have kept the gun. She could shoot me and be done with it."

"I'll pretend that's your particular sense of humor coming back," K-san said lightly. "She's almost as worried about you as her brother. She might have torn into the police department herself if she wasn't needed by the doctors. And the kid, too; he woke up again and recognized her."

I couldn't help shuddering, but my gaze never left the window. "That's a relief. At least he recognizes someone."

K-san gave me another measuring look. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me what's really going on here? Off the record."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said mechanically.

"Of course you don't," K-san sighed. He swerved with a little more force than necessary into a parking spot in the emergency room lot. "What you really need is sleep, but I doubt you would go anywhere else but here. Get some damn coffee, you look like hell. I'm going to go take care of some pesky murder charges." Once I was out of the car, he had swerved back out of the lot, leaving me to blink after him until his taillights vanished before walking into the hospital.

I had been immediately accosted by Mika-san, who started interrogating me until she got a good look at my face, at which point she had cut off in the middle of a sentence and pulled me into a bone-breaking hug, an action that so shocked me that I actually let her. After a few moments, I had even been able to relax, wondering if she was holding on to me or I to her.

Eventually she let me go, pushed a cup of coffee into my hands, and bullied me into a waiting room chair. There we sat for two hours, our silence broken only occasionally by a doctor coming to speak to her. They wouldn't let us in to see Eiri-kun because he had finally fallen into some semblance of a healthy sleep.

There didn't seem to be much to say, at least not until her comment about temporary memory loss and the ensuing half-argument about me needing to sleep as well. She was quiet again for a while after, then spoke again, very quietly. "His mind's scrambled. He woke up a few times when I was there. Once he asked for you, another time someone named Yuki. He wasn't very coherent."

I closed my eyes, fighting back more tears. "I'm sorry, Mika-san," I repeated for the hundredth time, knowing the apology could never be enough but finding nothing else to say. "It's my fault."

"You keep saying that," she said, a tinge of irritation in her voice. "Maybe it is; I don't know what the hell's going on here—but if you don't stop acting like such a martyr I'm going to slap you."

I looked up in surprise to see tears at the corners of her eyes. "You say that as if saying it will fix this. It won't." I could find no response as her tears spilled over. After a few moments, she leaned against me, hiding her face in my shirt. "If you don't stop, I'm going to break down completely too, and someone has to be strong here right now."

Not sure of myself, I brought up a hand to rest lightly on her hair as she cried, the guilt almost smothering me because she was so kind to me after all of this, because she didn't blame me and _should_ have. _Whatever she says, whatever anyone says, it's all my fault. My fault, my fault, my fault, my-_

"Mr. Seguchi?"

I looked up to see a woman with a kindly smile and her hair tucked back into a neat bun standing a respectful distance away. As soon as she saw I was aware of her, she resumed speaking. "I'm Doctor Hamilton. I wonder if I could speak with you a moment." She smiled at Mika-san, almost too brightly, when she also looked up. "Miss Uesugi, you can go in and sit with your brother now if you like. We shouldn't be too long."

After a moment, Mika-san released me, then stood and headed in the direction of the doors that led deeper into the hospital. Dr. Hamilton smiled again, for which I found myself starting to hate her, and gestured for me to follow her in the other direction. I followed her, wondering the entire time what she could possibly want with me when I was not a member of the immediate family and was indeed being treated a bit warily as someone who the police had taken away. "I'm sorry for taking you aside now, when all it really looks like you need is sleep," she said, never turning, "but unfortunately I'm a little pressed for time, and I would rather do this while the memory is still fresh."

She led me into an elevator, pushing the button for the fifth floor. I read the label by the button dully. _Psychiatry and Mental Health_.

I followed her down another hall when the elevator stopped, then into a comfortably furnished office. She urged me to sit down, then brought me another cup of coffee without asking. Only after I had thanked her and started drinking it did she speak again. "I'm being assigned to Eiri," she explained, "along with his primary care doctor, but we're all aware there isn't much to be done for him physically, so the problem must clearly be internal. And before I can do anything to help him, I need to understand exactly what is going on here, since he's in no state to tell me."

"He was raped," I said dully, uttering the ugly word for the first time, though I had been thinking it since the beginning. "I don't think it gets much clearer than that."

"We found no signs of forced sexual activity," she said coolly, then regarded me over the rims of her glasses. "I had supposed you would know that, having been there in time to stop his assailants. It is you who shot them, isn't it?"

"That's right. I shot them." That was so easy to say, so easy to almost believe. _If only it had been me._ "I can't clarify for you much, I'm afraid. As I told the police, I heard him screaming for help as I was coming to pick him up, ran in to see him struggling with his assailants, half dressed, picked the gun up off the table, and shot. It was rather automatic."

She looked at me sharply for a few moments, then nodded. "In that case, I suppose it is a relief to you to hear that he wasn't violated."

"Yes." That really was a relief, more than that. A little bit of the guilt seemed to lift off of me.

She pulled out a notebook and consulted something written there before turning her eyes on me again. "One of the men killed tonight was Yuki Kitazawa, Eiri's tutor. He called for him once when he woke up, then broke into a stream of what we're told by Miss Uesugi were desperate apologies in Japanese before falling unconscious." She bit on the end of her pen in a manner that seemed habitual before continuing. "Eiri was very fond of his tutor, wasn't he?"

"Yes," I said, letting cold fury and hatred wash away some of the painful guilt. "The bastard."

"I share your sentiments on some level, but we'll leave that alone for now," Dr. Hamilton said calmly. "Did you see indications of a relationship beyond student and pupil developing between the two of them? It's been known to happen fairly frequently with home tutors. Was Eiri perhaps more than simply fond of Kitazawa?"

"No," I cut her off. "There was nothing of the sort going on." _Don't worry, he said, and I believed him._ I felt myself growing angry, anger born of utter futility for ignoring the warning signs. _I could have prevented this. It's my fault. _"Don't blame the fact that Kitazawa was a sick fuck on Eiri. He's innocent. He would have told me if there was something going on."

"You were his confidant, then," she mused. "Well, I suppose that makes sense, seeing as you were his only familiar face in the country. It's a bit of an unusual arrangement to send a child overseas with his sister's fiancé. I can only assume your families are very close."

"We were always close." _He was my closest person in the world._ "The fact that he said nothing means there was nothing to tell."

She looked down at her notebook again before she spoke. "I hate to say this, Mr. Seguchi, but this doesn't quite fit together in my head." When she looked up, she was no longer smiling. "Autopsy reports show that Kitazawa had been consuming alcohol shortly before the time of his death, but he wasn't hideously drunk, certainly not enough to alter his behavior patterns this much. If Eiri confided in you, he must have said _something_. Either the child was stupid, which I am not led to believe, or you're lying to me, which is an idiotic thing to do when I am trying to _help_."

"He told me not to worry!" I finally shouted, completely undone, too tired to care I was losing my cool in front of a complete stranger. "Of course I noticed some worrying behavior on Kitazawa's part! I would have had to be blind _and_ stupid not to, but Eiri told me I was overreacting and I believed him, because he never lied to me! He was naïve and I was too much of an idiot to insist, which makes all of this my fault! Is that want you want to hear? Is it?"

She was watching me through narrowed eyes. "It's closer to the truth, in any case."

I emptied what was left of my coffee in one shuddering gulp and glared at her. "That _is_ the truth, miss, and I'm sorry if it isn't the pretty one you wanted. Eiri is an innocent victim who was cruelly taken advantage of by someone he loved and trusted, and I am the idiot who should have taken care of him and didn't. I can't do a thing to help him, not when he doesn't even remember who I _am_." I stood up. "I'm going now."

"Sit," she said shortly. There was such command in her voice, I couldn't leave, but I didn't sit either, only stood and glared down at her. "So," she finally said, tapping the pen against her lips. "I thought it might be something like this. Mr. Seguchi, what is your relationship with Eiri Uesugi?"

My anger winked out of existence as if it had never been, replaced by cold, and it took all I had in me to keep my voice and face from showing it. "He is my fiancée's brother and a family friend. You've heard this before."

"Yes, I've heard that before. Now I'd like to hear the truth." Her face, so kindly before, was cold and more than a little angry. "You were sleeping with that child," she said flatly.

"I'm afraid I can't possibly agree with that statement, as that would certainly be illegal," I said, cool and composed even when I was shaking inside.

"Yes, but more than that, unethical and damaging to the child's psyche." I said nothing, but she stood to look me in the eyes. "You're right to say you're guilty of this," she said softly. "I suppose I should tell you, it's clear there are many memories he's suppressing. The one time he was coherent and I tried to speak to him, he became very confused. The last thing that's very clear in his mind is almost a year ago, and after his memories become scrambled. It can't be only Kitazawa he's pushing out of his mind, since he's only known him a few months. It's a self-defense mechanism. I doubt his memories of that time will ever be completely clear, and I can only see you to blame for it."

Even when I met her gaze squarely, inside every shot she sent out met its target painfully. "I would dearly like to have you charged with statutory rape," she said coldly. "If I didn't know it was futile to try without a word of evidence, I would send you back to the police. Whatever happened with Kitazawa last night, whatever was the trigger, you are the one who violated that child, probably numerous times, over the expanse of a long time, enough to have him lock away his own memories to be free of you. I think it's a blessing in a way that he will probably never remember you." She advanced until we were practically eye to eye. "You destroyed him. I can only hope there is enough humanity in you not to try forcing his memory. It's kinder to let him live in a fog than force him to relive something he so obviously wanted to lock away. He's likely to try something desperate if forced to remember, and I can hope you care for him enough, in your own twisted way, to keep him from harming himself."

She broke the seemingly endless contact between our eyes and turned away. "As a doctor, I can only say I will counsel the Uesugi family to keep you well away from their child. As a woman, I can say I will counsel Mika Uesugi to run as fast as she can before she is chained to you. And as a human being, I can say only one thing, and that is that you are a monster, and you disgust me." She sat down in her chair, picked up her notebook, hid her gaze. "I have nothing more to say to you. You can see yourself out."

I made it out of the hospital in a daze and caught a taxi back to the apartment. I stumbled in just as the second dawn after the ruination of my life broke, wincing at the red smoggy sunlight coming into my windows.

* * *

I ended up collapsed on Eiri-kun's bed, because I couldn't bear the thought of going into my room, the room we had shared for months, not without risking being ill. It was ironic that I ended in his room, causing a half-laugh, half-sob to escape me as I pulled the blanket up around me, but I was fairly near hysterics at that point, so just about anything would have incited that reaction.

The pillowcase still smelled a little like his shampoo from the one night he had spent there after we had fought. I buried my face in it, breathing in the familiar fragrance and hating myself.

_You destroyed him._

"Yes," I said out loud to the empty room. "I did." Only then did the tears start, hysterical, inhuman sobs that I had been holding back for what seemed like a lifetime. Eventually, exhausted past even my breaking point, I feel into a deep dreamless sleep.

* * *

I was awakened by the smell of Mrs. Smith's vegetable soup and a cool hand on my forehead. I sat up to see Mika-san sitting on the edge of the bed, looking mildly concerned. It was dark outside the windows. "You've managed to get yourself a fever, I think," she said, as if this situation was normal. "Well, I suppose you deserve it if you're not going to eat anything excluding endless cups of bad coffee for over twenty-four hours. Here, Your housekeeper was by earlier and made this."

"Mika-san…" I trailed off, too confused to find words.

"Eat or I feed you," she said, shoving the bowl at me, spilling a little on the bedspread. "It won't kill you to be weak for the first and last time in your life." Obediently, I started to eat. "There was a key with Eiri's things, and I had your manager bring me here when he came to the hospital looking for you. The charges against you are dropped."

I decided not to ask how K-san had managed that. "That's a relief," I said emotionlessly.

"Yes, especially considering you didn't kill them." I looked up at her, knowing the shock was clear on my face. "The first time he woke up, the time he seemed to know what was going on, he was apologizing to that Yuki bastard. It wasn't too hard to guess what really happened. Fortunately, none of the doctors or the policemen speak Japanese." She picked up a cup of tea from the bedside table and took a drink. "You protected him. Thank you."

I looked down, shocked to realize the bowl of soup was already empty. "I didn't protect him. I destroyed him."

"Yes, well, about that." She looked at me curiously. "That Hamilton woman had a few interesting things to say to me. How many of them are true?"

I decided I didn't care. "Enough." I didn't look at her, but rather down into the bowl.

"I see." Her voice was quite mild and I jerked my head up to look at her in surprise for the second time. Her face wore a mask or frustration, but there was no anger. "I always knew he was the reason you kept coming back," she said. "In a way, I'm grateful to him for that."

"Why are you so calm about this?"

"I don't want to know the details," she said suddenly instead of answering my question. "If I didn't know before just how much he meant to you, your spectacular reaction to this would have told me, anyway. I really, really don't want to know, all right, Tohma?" I realized there were tears in her voice, and that she had dropped the honorific from my name. "You know, he's my brother but I feel more like his mother sometimes, his and Tatsuha's too," she mused, voice still shaky. "I love them more than they are ever going to understand… it's so damn hard, Tohma, to be the mother of two at the age of twenty-one."

She really was crying now, I saw. "It feels like I'm broken inside because someone I love so much is hurting. I can't help but get angry, cause a scene because I don't like to let people see me cry, either, like you, I think." She offered me a half-smile. "You say I should be furious with you? Yes, maybe, probably I should, but I can't make myself be, because in a completely different way I love you just as much as I love him, and you're just as broken as he is." She sniffed, wiping her hand angrily across her eyes. She didn't cry prettily; her face was red and her eyes were starting to get puffy. I stared at her in disbelief. "What, didn't you know?" she asked, a little bitterly. "I thought you were so smart, Tohma. I've been holding on to you with teeth and nails, silently agreeing to wait for years that keep stretching longer and longer on the off chance that I may have you someday. I never wait for _anything_."

I finally found my voice, but only managed to say her name before she ploughed on. "I'm aware you don't love me. You don't need to spell it out for me. I always knew he meant more to you than I did. That's all right, that's fine, as long as you're mine, even in words, even on paper, I'm all right with that." She grabbed onto my hand, squeezing as hard as she could. "I know you're going to try to detach yourself from us. If you weren't going to before, the doctor certainly made her feelings on the subject crystal clear." She sniffed again. "Please don't go. Even if it's just to stay near him, please don't go."

I kept watching her cry, astounded. "In a way, I'm selfishly grateful he won't remember. I know that's cruel," she justified herself quickly. "I know it is, but I can't help it. I'm not letting you go," she said, her tone a little vicious. "I _won't_, do you understand me?"

I closed my eyes. _I'm so tired._ "I understand," I said softly.

_You'll… stay with me, right? Even though everything's so complicated?_

_Even if it gets complicated, I'll stay. I'll be with you. Always._

I felt myself fighting back a new wave of tears. "I'll stay."


	17. Homecoming

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Fifteen: Homecoming**

* * *

Author's notes: Well, Tohma/Ryuichi fans and Tohma/Mika fans are sure to love this chapter. Tohma/Eiri fans will probably cry. But this chapter was easier to write than the last two, because I've desperately missed Noriko and Ryuichi, and getting them back into the mix was like a breath of fresh air. Even if I think Ryuichi needs a hug almost as much as Tohma does. On the subject of Tohma, yes, this is indeed the last chapter of his spectacular breakdown. He should slowly but surely start getting his feet under him starting from chapter sixteen…

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation, but I wish the manga came out as quickly as these chapters seem to be lately.

* * *

The next few weeks were easily some of the worst of my life. We spent them in New York, my apartment feeling empty though, as before, there were two people in it—Mika-san had wordlessly moved into Eiri-kun's old room for the duration of his hospital stay. He had been taken from urgent care and put into another wing of the building. His primary care doctor stopped checking in on him by the second day, and he was left to the mercy of Dr. Hamilton and others like her, psychiatric analysts and counselors who attempted to put his mind back together.

I knew my presence was not welcome, so I stayed away. After a few days, I tried showing up to work to distract myself, but was met there by the startled eyes of my secretary who informed me that K-san had been by to collect my things and apologize that I would not be returning. I only shrugged, turned around, and headed back out, ignoring her calling after me.

The days were long without work to distract me. I tried playing a few times but the music wasn't there, as though the unending shifting melody that had never ceased playing in my mind had suddenly been cut off. The nights were longer, and I often stared at the ceiling until it was almost dawn. When I did sleep, my mind was filled with fragmented dreams that left me feeling empty, or worse, crystal clear images of the way things had been before, the same kinds of vivid dreams that had urged me to seek him out what seemed so long ago. Sometimes I wished I didn't have to wake up.

I crawled out of bed late, sometimes well into the afternoon, feeling tired even on the rare days when I had managed a decent night's sleep. Mika-san was never there in the afternoons, spending them in the hospital with Eiri-kun. She came back in the evenings and we ate dinner together, usually in silence except when she initiated empty conversation. She tried talking about him and his progress the first day, but quickly found other themes more comfortable. Although I wanted to know, I didn't ask.

Those days blurred together after a while. I'm not entirely sure what I did with myself between waking and falling back into bed. The only thing that's very clear in my memory is a constant ache inside, and the fact that I often wanted to cry but never did after that first day. After a few days of this listless behavior, Mika-san made a comment that perhaps I also needed to see a counselor.

"So that someone else can agree that this is my fault?" I asked her dully. "I don't need anyone else confirming that; I know it myself." I didn't particularly feel like having my mind picked apart by someone like Dr. Hamilton, someone just as likely as not to call me a monster and restate the hard truths I already knew.

"If you keep acting this way, you're going to have to see someone," Mika-san said, pursing her lips. "I'm sick of watching you play the martyr. I have enough problems with Eiri without you on top of them."

After that, I made a conscious effort. By the middle of the second week, I was outwardly back to my usual self. I taught myself how to smile again, how to behave around Mika-san so that she smiled with satisfaction at me when she thought I wasn't looking. Dutifully, I spent a great deal of time at the piano each day. The music was still gone, but I played through finished melodies, old songs that had come out of me through the years, using this opportunity to keep my hands warm and accustomed to the work.

After a while, Mika-san began discussing Eiri-kun with me again, conversations that had an air of two parents talking about a problem child. Clearly this was how she saw her role, and where she wanted me to see mine. "It's like he's a changed person," she complained. "He doesn't like talking to anyone, and only seems content when he's got a book or his computer in front of him and utter silence. He snarls at people who come into his room. I haven't seen him smile once." She sighed. "And he still says he doesn't remember anything, but he's so _angry_, so sullen all the time. I don't recognize him anymore."

This worrying trend in his behavior continued until even Mika-san started staying only an hour or two at the hospital. "I'm exhausted," she told me. "Fighting with him like this just exhausts me, the things he says, the way he looks at me…" Now it was I who held her when she cried with hopelessness, heads on each other's shoulders, almost-intimacy, almost-comfort. In those days when I grew to know her I began to respect her, then to be fond of her and her endless supply of stubbornness. She would cry on my shoulder, and the next day she would get up and go back, though the expression on her face was grim more often than cheerful.

I worried silently until, at the end of the second week, I convinced myself to go and see him. As it was, I couldn't make myself set foot in the hospital until after hours, aware of the possibility of running into Dr. Hamilton or someone else who recognized me during the day. I made my way in through the eternally open emergency room, then simply walked into the depths of the hospital with an air of knowing exactly where I was going and having a perfect right to be there. No one stopped me.

I found his room fairly quickly and walked in as if I belonged there, still worried about one of the night staff questioning my presence. Only when I had closed the door quietly behind me did I really look around.

The room was furnished like a fairly standard bedroom, with a chair and desk aside from the bed and curtains over the window. He looked up from where he was curled into the armchair near the window, and for a moment, I didn't recognize him. Those wide golden eyes I had drowned in were narrowed and cold when they looked at me. "You're not the doctor. I didn't ask for you."

I made myself smile, go and sit on the edge of the bed. "Yes, I know you didn't. I decided to come and see you anyway."

"Oh, whatever. Anyone's better than her, anyway. Except Mika. Mika doesn't know when to shut up." He set aside his book and stretched, then let his eyes meet mine again. "What can I do for you, Seguchi-san?" He let out a laugh at the clear relief in my eyes at being recognized, but his expression could hardly be called a smile. "Yeah, impressive, isn't it? You'd think it was a miracle, remembering someone's name. Mika said you were worried."

"Of course I was worried. I'm glad you know who I am. But you never called me Seguchi-san before."

"Didn't I?" Again that half smile. "Sorry, that part's a little fuzzy. Is there a problem with that? It's nice and polite, isn't it? My stupid sister says I've turned into an impolite brat."

I could hardly believe that this was the same Eiri-kun I knew. "Yes, it's polite."

He shrugged. "Are you going to tell me why you're here already? Say whatever you need to say so you can go. I don't want to talk to anyone."

I had to clasp my hands in my lap to keep them from shaking. "What's happened to you?" I whispered. _I did this. I made him like this._

He laughed, the expression on his face mirthless. "That's the trick, isn't it? I don't remember, so they keep me locked up in here like a zoo animal and treat me like a bomb on a timer." He leaned forward, and those narrowed eyes glittered coolly. "Want to know a secret?" he said. "I remember some things. I'm not as stupid as they think I am. I shot someone, didn't I?" I felt the shock showing on my face. He nodded, satisfied, and for a moment, his face was almost normal, if sad. "I thought so. Someone very important to me…" He shrugged the sadness off and was back to the sickly sarcasm. "I don't remember who, though. They say I should remember some things later, so maybe eventually I'll figure it out, but I guess it doesn't really matter if they haven't told me anything. If they're going to let it drop without blaming someone, I'd have to be a real ass to tell them I shot someone. Then they'd keep me locked up like a zoo animal even longer, and hell if I want that. Though maybe prison is better than here. What do you think?"

I was thinking of that night spent in holding, the bare stone walls, the glances my way that clearly said "murderer". But I said nothing, partly because it would do him no good to know I had taken the blame, partly because this angry, cynical creature in front of me was completely foreign.

"I guess you wouldn't know," he said dismissively, then yawned. "Too much talking's made me tired. I never talk so much. Are you going to go soon?" Closing my eyes for a moment to compose myself, I stood. "You know, Seguchi-san… I sort of remember you were there afterwards. I think maybe you were with me then…" I opened my eyes, but though the voice was almost normal Eiri-kun, the face was still cold. "But whenever I think about that too much I get a headache," he finished flippantly. "That means you're probably the one who had them bring me here, aren't you? I think I might hate you for that." He said it mildly, as though it was nothing spectacular. "Are you going to give me a straight answer as to when the hell I get out of here? I feel fine."

"Soon," I said, turning my back on him and heading to the door so that he couldn't see my face.

"Yeah, I thought so. You're just like the rest of them. That's why I didn't want to talk to you."

I closed the door behind me and silently walked out of the hospital and into the night.

* * *

They discharged him a few days later on Mika-san's angered insistence, and she brought him home. He walked in, looked around, then winced and put his hand on his forehead. "I have a headache. I'm going to lie down," he said without so much as a greeting. My heart beat a little too fast when he headed down the hallway that led to my bedroom, then skipped painfully when he opened the door to the bathroom, looked at it in confusion, slammed it, and came back into the living room where Mika-san and I were watching him.

Silently, she took his hand and led him to his room. There was the sound of another door slamming, then she came back, her expression pinched with worry and barely suppressed anger. "Sometimes, I want to slap him," she confided to me.

I couldn't stand being there with the two of them, not like this, so I was pitifully relieved that our flight back to Japan left the next day. K-san, missing in action since the first night, came to pick us up. He spoke jovially over his shoulder to Mika-san on the way to the airport. Both Eiri-kun and I stayed silent.

He wasn't verbose as he had been the night I had visited him. In fact, he was completely silent, arms crossed and looking out of the window with an expression that was more displeasure than anything else. After a while, it hurt just a little too much to watch him, so I turned my head away from the mirror where I had been watching his reflection and towards my own window. It was a hot, muggy day, and everything was eerily still as it slipped by beyond the window. I looked but didn't see the last pieces of my dream slipping away.

* * *

Once we were through customs in Narita Airport, K-san had led me towards the exit and Mika-san had taken Eiri-kun in the direction of their connecting flight. Only a quick good-bye had been said, Eiri-kun's first words since we had boarded the plane in New York, his face looking as though it pained him to say anything at all. Mika-san had smiled slightly and reached over to squeeze my hand, easy intimacy she had grown used to in the time we had spent being each other's leaning posts, and then they had gone the other way, disappearing into the crowd, and that was it.

I didn't really look around as I walked, which explained why an excited squeal was my only warning before I was banged into from two directions at once and went down like a felled tree, arms flailing, the hat and sunglasses the careful K-san had made me don flying off.

It was chaos for a moment as I tried to extricate myself, and we were clearly gathering an audience. I was still disoriented when someone shoved the hat back onto my head none too gently, and when I lifted my eyes I met a dancing violet gaze I hadn't seen in what seemed like forever, just as K-san grabbed her by the collar and hauled her off of me. He had the back of Ryuichi-san's jacket in his other hand, and the singer, whose sunglasses were crooked on his face, looked properly chastised. "Will you two _please_ think on occasion where and who you _are?_" K-san growled.

I stood, brushing at my clothing somewhat futilely, wondering where my glasses had gone exactly and just how many bruises I had collected.

"That's… It can't be-"

"It is! SAKUMA-SAN!"

"And that's Seguchi Tohma!"

"Noriko-chan!"

"Nittle Grasper!"

"All three of them!"

"I thought they broke up!"

"Nittle Grasper is here!"

"It's Nittle Grasper!"

"Shit," said K-san. Then, "Run." We ran.

* * *

"That's one way to welcome you home," Noriko-san laughed breathlessly when we were safely in a car with tinted windows. I had been shoved unceremoniously in the middle between her and Ryuichi-san, and both of them had latched on to me immediately.

"I bet you haven't run from a mob in a while, huh Tohma?" Ryuichi-san piped up, joining her laughter. "I nearly lost Kumagoro! Thank you for protecting him, K!"

"The next time you're stupid I'll let the fans have the rabbit," K-san said ominously. "I told you two to stay home today."

"And you actually expected us to do what you said why, exactly?" Noriko-san asked. She followed this up by hugging me awkwardly around the waist. "I haven't seen you in _ages_. A hundred years at least. Hi, by the way."

"You're right; we never said hello na no da! We're such bad friends!" Ryuichi-san's arms hooked around my neck and the two of them were effectively hanging off of me once again. "Okaeri, Tohma!"

"Okaeri nasai!" Noriko-san echoed.

I found it was a little easier than it had been to smile. "Tadaima."

* * *

There were smiles and laughter all the way back to my apartment. Mostly I let them talk, but I put in a word occasionally when it seemed it was expected of me. It was wonderful to see them again, but I still felt leaden, tired, and unhappy. I wanted to get to my apartment and be left alone; however much I loved them both, Ryuichi-san's childish banter and Noriko-san's enthusiasm didn't at all fit with my frame of mind.

"You have to come see me tomorrow," Noriko-san said, attempting a glare that melted into a smile. "You _still_ haven't met Saki, and she's two months old soon. You've been very neglectful."

"Where Seguchi-san has to go tomorrow is work," K-san said from the driver's seat. "As do both of you. It's time you stopped slacking off. You've probably forgotten how to sing."

"I have not either!" Ryuichi-san protested indignantly, whereupon he began singing along with the radio at full volume.

"After work, then," Noriko-san said, talking over him (she nearly had to shout). "God, it's good to have you back. You have no idea how much we've missed you. There hasn't been anyone to make pithy comments. Not that you're too talkative today."

"Seguchi-san's exhausted," K-san interrupted. "Ryuichi, for the love of God, I was wrong, you can still sing, you've proven yourself, shut _up_."

The sudden silence rang in my ears. "Exhausted," I echoed K-san. "That's right."

Noriko-san seemed to buy this excuse and resumed chattering at me up until the very moment I was dropped off in the back of my building, seeing as the news of my return seemed to have spread, as there were a few girls standing across the street from the main entrance, being watched by displeased doormen.

"We'll see you tomorrow," Noriko-san said. She kissed my cheek before letting me scoot out of the car behind Ryuichi-san who had already bounced out.

I made my goodbyes and entered the building feeling rather relieved. The feeling of peace didn't last long, however, only up to the point where I had shut my own door behind me and looked around.

The familiar space had been well-cared for in my absence: there wasn't a speck of dust to be seen, and everything was gleaming. I took off my shoes, my jacket and my hat, hung the jacket in the closet and put the hat on the table, and walked in, my feet sinking silently into carpet.

In a way, it was better than being in New York. There were no memories here, at least none as strong as the ones in that apartment, in what already seemed another life. I walked into the living room and experimentally struck a few notes on the piano. It was perfectly in tune.

I did a round of the house, more to have something to do than anything else. I saw my luggage had already been delivered but I didn't feel like unpacking the three heavy suitcases now. Eventually, I ended where I had begun, in the living room and feeling somehow that I had walked into someplace that did not really belong to me, though that was ridiculous. This had been my home far longer than the apartment in New York.

Just as my thoughts turned dark, I heard a key in the lock. Confused, I looked into the entrance hall without the slightest idea of who it might be to behold Ryuichi-san calmly closing the door behind him and stepping out of his shoes. He looked up, clearly aware I was there, and beamed. "Noriko-chan gave me her key," he told me, at explained his presence. Without giving me a chance to react he walked past me and into the kitchen. A few moments later I heard the noise made by the electric teapot. I followed him into the kitchen to see he was every bit as comfortable with it as with his own, pulling a teapot and a canister of tea off of their respective shelves, gathering together cups, spoons and a canister of sugar, never having to look for anything. "Tea's good when you're tired. And since you didn't tell us you were coming back until the day before, there isn't too much here."

I stared at him dumbly as he made the tea. "You know, I had to leave Kumagoro with Noriko-chan so that K wouldn't know I came here," he said, making a face. "K put a tracking device in him so he wouldn't lose me. I hope he's not mad at me."

I finally found something to say. "Kumagoro, or K-san?"

"Kumagoro of course," Ryuichi-san said with a laugh. "K's always mad at me. Noriko-chan wanted to come, but she left Saki with her husband, and anyway, I asked her not to, since I wanted to come by myself." He finished with the tea and walked over to offer me a cup. "Here."

I took the cup automatically as he went back to put spoonful after spoonful into his own. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, Ryuichi-san, but why exactly _did_ you come?"

His hands slowed, which was a blessing since his teacup was about to overflow from all the sugar he had dumped into it. "Because you're not happy, of course." When he looked up at me this time, his face was adult and serious, nothing like the childlike mask of moments ago. "When you work so hard to smile all the time, even those times when you don't want to, it's easy to see when someone else is doing it, too. Especially when that someone else is the person who matters most in the world." He smiled, a little sadly. "You left so happy, and came back so sad," he said. "Your smile is the same, but your eyes aren't."

I sunk into a chair, sick of pretending, knowing when he was insightful like this nothing got past him, anyway. He walked over and tilted up my chin with his hand to study my face. "So sad, I think maybe your heart is breaking," he finished softly. "And I'm scared, so scared for you because that's not something you can glue back together. So I came. There isn't much else I can do for you, but at least you don't have to pretend with me. I won't give you away."

Completely undone by his words and the sympathy in his eyes, I let my head fall forward to rest on his chest, relaxed into the arms that came around me, and let the tears that had been locked away out. For a long time he held me while I cried out all of the pain and frustration that had been building up, and said nothing.


	18. In the Gray

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Sixteen: In the Gray**

* * *

Author's notes: …Yes, Tohma, you really _do_ seem that broken :sighs: They say you always hurt the ones you love, and I love Tohma to a folly, so…

A few random things, while I remember them. I've had a few people ask me how K got rid of Tohma's murder charges :incredulous stare: …How does K get the authorization to carry around a bazooka when carrying a gun is _illegal_ in Japan? How does he take over Disneyland and blow it up _without repercussions?_

…He's K, of course. What other answer could you possibly need?

Second, this chapter actually has some _funny_ bits. It's been so long, the rabid fangirls of chapter fifteen notwithstanding… I actually like writing humor best! Is that hard to believe? I know most of you live exclusively for the angst and/or the fanservice… Well, there's plenty of that, too, some to think of it…

Finally, I just want to take this space to thank all of my _amazing_ reviewers! I really don't mention you guys often enough, but I swear I am thinking about you all the time, and I still squeal every time a positive review shows up in my inbox. Not to mention my muses take reviewer suggestions. After all, this story wasn't supposed to have any Tohma/Ryuichi and look at this chapter! So review! Good things come of it! hinthint I have this dream of breaking 200 reviews by chapter seventeen…

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation, and I don't think I own myself anymore, either. My friend Sam sold me recently for the impressive price of a hundred camels… :swears she's not high:

* * *

"It hasn't changed at all. I almost thought it would." I looked up at the mirrored ceiling of the elevator that was carrying me and Ryuichi-san up to the top floor of the Shinjin building. "Stupid; it's been less than a year." It was true, the familiar hallways and even the mirrored elevator hadn't changed. Neither had the friendly faces of those working in the lower offices, the security guards, or any of the other trappings. Only the artists we ran into were different. As a rule, fame wasn't a long-lived thing in Japan.

"I like that it doesn't change," Ryuichi-san said. "I haven't been here for a long time, either. If it had changed, maybe I would get lost." He accompanied this statement with a cheerful, childlike smile devoid of all shadows, a smile I answered almost painlessly.

I was steadier now. I had cried for what seemed like hours the night before, but after, when I was empty and devoid of feeling, Ryuichi-san had forced more than one cup of sake down my throat (where he had gotten it remained a mystery) and dragged me into the living room and onto the piano bench, commanding only, "Play."

At first, I didn't much see the point of this exercise. My head was not quite steady from the alcohol and the music had not returned, but Ryuichi-san kept staring at me until I put my hands on the piano, and then there was nothing for it but to play a note, and then another, and since he kept staring at me, yet another until they fell into the melody, old and familiar, of the first song I had written for Noriko-san. After a few moments, Ryuichi-san had sung along; it shocked me that he remembered the words, but he did. It wasn't his range, so after the first verse I modulated down so that he could sing along softly and comfortably, his eyes closed, as if remembering something.

"_I locked my heart in silence  
__And threw away the key,  
__My eyes were cool and empty  
__And my mind was never free…"_

After, it didn't seem so difficult to modulate into another song, mostly old ones, some that I thought I had forgotten, a few that had never made it past sketches created between myself and Noriko-san. Sometimes Ryuichi-san didn't know the lyrics, though his memory for things he had heard only once, even when he had never been called upon to sing them, was astounding. Mostly I wandered through melodies and years and he let me play whatever came to mind. There was a cup sitting on top of the piano, and I drank from it on occasion, even if I knew I probably shouldn't have any more.

Once I started, it was difficult to stop. I missed notes, sometimes runs, because my mind was fuzzy with sake, but it didn't seem to matter. After a while, I found myself playing songs that were ours, all of ours, and Ryuichi-san sung along more confidently, though still softly, not straining his voice, more in accompaniment to the playing than anything else. Eventually tired of leaning against the piano, he perched on the piano bench next to me. He must have felt me shudder, remembering, when his arm brushed against mine and I immediately recalled the spring afternoons in the sunny New York living room with Eiri-kun, how he would put his head trustingly on my shoulder while I played. Though I said nothing, Ryuichi-san was careful not to touch me again, though he didn't stand from his seat, either.

With the memories came the new melodies, things that I had only started playing with in New York, and he fell silent, only humming along on occasion with a particularly catchy strain. In my muddled, sleepy mind, I heard something again, almost an echo, but of something unfamiliar. I strained to catch it, and for a moment, something new came out of my fingers, plaintive and a little helpless, but just as quickly, my fingers tangled on a complicated chord, and I realized it was dark outside and I was almost spectacularly drunk.

It had been hard to get up, and Ryuichi-san had had to help me to my room, wobbling all the way, but when I at last collapsed into bed, I managed to fall into an immediate, dreamless sleep.

In the morning, I had awoken with a splitting headache but a surprisingly clear mind, for all of that. Ryuichi-san had been in the kitchen, wearing clothes from my closet which were not quite his size and stirring miso soup on the stove. His smile was immediate and bright as he chirped, "Morning!"

So I ate the soup, drank weak tea, took headache medicine, and drove both of us to Shinjin. And though I wasn't entirely sure how he had managed it or what he had done, I felt lighter, almost human again, and found, to my surprise, that smiling came easier now than it had yesterday. The music in my head was still not back, but I felt calmer now, knowing it was only a matter of time before it returned.

* * *

That's how I got through that first morning when K-san sent us on yet another round with stylists and wardrobe consultants (a refresher, he called it) before throwing us into a studio and setting us the task of working through our most recent pieces so that we synchronized once again: with a hangover accompanied by a strange but welcome feeling of pleasant detachment. At lunchtime, Ryuichi-san and I were dragged home by a boundlessly energetic Noriko-san to admire her baby (who really was remarkably beautiful) where we received a call from K-san setting us mercifully free for the entirety of the afternoon with the warning that real work would begin the next day.

As I was coming out of the bathroom, I overheard the tail end of a conversation in hushed tones. Not quite sure why myself, I stopped just short of the door, listening.

"No, it isn't quite the way it was," Ryuichi-san said softly. "But it's going to be even better than before. Ne?" I could imagine the look of childlike trust on his face.

Noriko-san didn't answer right away, and when she did, her voice was very nearly a whisper. "I hope your boundless optimism doesn't get you hurt. One broken link in a chain is bad enough. Two is fatal." She was silent for a moment, then added, "Please don't hurt yourself."

"I'm only doing what I have to."

"I know. That's the problem with us, isn't it? We do what we have to." Then, "That means you're not going to listen to me, doesn't it?"

When I finally entered the room, I found that she was hugging him, her face hidden in the folds of my oversized shirt. When he looked up at me, though, Ryuichi-san's seriousness was gone, and he was all smiles. "Does your head still hurt, Tohma?"

"Only a little," I answered, trying to seem comfortable though I didn't like that they were discussing me behind my back, even without malicious intent. There had rarely been secrets between us before. _Do I really seem that broken?_

Noriko-san's eyes held the remnants of tears when she, in turn, looked up at me. She turned away from Ryuichi-san, only to lean against me and wrap me in a fierce embrace. I barely made out a mumbled, "Loving you is just so _hard_," before she let me go and smiled through the tears. "You're staying for dinner," she told us then. "I'm not letting you go that easily."

* * *

A week went by, then two, and life settled into a shadow of what it had been before I left. A shadow, because nothing felt quite real, not the press conferences, or the photo shoots, or the endless rehearsals, or even the late nights at Noriko-san's every time she dragged me home with her to surround me with cheer and love and comfort that almost penetrated the wall of ice I had put up, almost but not quite. A shadow, because all the color had seemed to bleed out of it, leaving shades of gray.

There was no news from Kyoto. I had no phone calls from Mika-san and didn't feel as though I had the right to call, so I left it alone. As I had done before this mess had gone spiraling spectacularly out of control, I tried burying myself in my work to escape it. It was so hard, because the music was still gone, something Ryuichi-san had realized right away and conspired with Noriko-san to keep hidden from K-san as long as possible. There was a new song, based on a melody I had finished in New York, completed and polished by Noriko-san and recorded under K-san's critical eye. "It's a bit different stylistically," he said. "I'd rather you find where you were than going a new direction at the moment."

It was a hit, but only barely, and more likely due to the fact that the band had only just come out of hibernation to the joy of rabid fans than any actual merit. It spent a week at number three before beginning its slow but inevitable slide down the charts. For us, that was the next thing to a failure. "The next one will be better," Noriko-san promised glibly. "We just needed to get our rhythm back."

We got a suspicious look at K-san and a concession that he wouldn't inflict bodily harm or wire our homes to blow… this time.

"Wow, he's really pretty mad this time," Ryuichi-san said as he followed me to my car, after. "Kumagoro says he has targets shaped like all of us that he practices shooting at every day to keep in shape. Even one shaped like Kumagoro, too." He frowned. "I can't believe he'd shoot at Kumagoro. That's just mean."

I was too used to Ryuichi-san by then to even react to this outlandish claim. In fact, my thoughts went more towards the fact that shooting at Grasper-shaped targets was probably fairly unsatisfactory, instead of the fact that Ryuichi-san claimed it had been the _bunny_ who saw them. "Are you following me home?" I said instead of voicing these thoughts.

"Yes na no da!" he chirped. This had happened more than a few times in the past couple of weeks, too. When it wasn't Noriko-san dragging me off, it was Ryuichi-san cheerfully gluing himself to my side after practice.

He had a driver who doubled as a bodyguard and took him to rehearsals and home again since he seemed to be categorically against learning how to drive. The driver was an idea of K-san's that had worked fairly well since we had first become famous, except for the fact that he still had to be changed every few months "on account of insanity being contagious", another way of saying that after a while, Ryuichi-san always managed to talk the drivers into taking him to the zoo or the circus instead of work (and once all the way to a McDonald's in Osaka instead of rehearsal for no apparent reason; we never had puzzled that one out). If Ryuichi-san followed me home, it meant, inevitably, that the poor harried man-of-the-hour was probably looking for him all over Shinjin, a situation that seemed to hold no end of amusement to the singer. He would probably need to be switched out again soon, before his nerves gave out.

"If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you were cruel," I said with a hint of a smile, unlocking my doors, sliding into the driver's seat as he hopped into the passenger side and reached for his seatbelt, carefully buckling Kumagoro in in his lap.

"Toshi-chan likes playing hide and seek," Ryuichi-san replied cheerily. I tried to equate the name _Toshi-chan_ with the huge mountain of a man with his infernal Mafiosi sunglasses and gave up. "Besides, Kumagoro is here! K _could_ tell him where I went, if he wanted to. I think K likes playing hide and seek, too."

I couldn't help but smile a little wider at that. "That's reassuring," I said. "At least you're not alone in your sadism."

Ryuichi-san only laughed at me and turned on the radio. It was playing the latest song; he listened critically for a few moments, then made a face and changed the station.

"You're not happy with it?" I asked him, pulling out of the underground parking lot and merging into traffic.

"You're not either," he replied immediately. "You're not the type who likes halfway."

"No, I don't suppose I am," I said, shrugging my shoulders a little irritably. "Generally when something doesn't please you, you refuse to sing it and throw a tantrum."

"Because I know we can do better. This time, it was the best we could do." I didn't like the sound of that in the least, but he changed the subject before I could begin to brood about it. "We have the morning off tomorrow. Isn't that nice of K?"

"Maybe it's just so we give him less temptation to shoot us all?" I wondered.

"Let's go somewhere," he said, ignoring me. "We haven't done anything fun in ages!"

"I'd like to point out we just got off of a six month break when you were free to do whatever fun things you liked."

"Well, of course, but that was while you were _gone_. Let's go do something _together_."

He had his specialty "begging" face on, his eyes big, shiny and teary, and he was chewing on Kumagoro's ear. It should have looked ridiculous, but I relented. "All right, where do you want to go?" I asked on a sigh.

"That way!" he pointed immediately. I had to make a squealing turn (we were halfway through the intersection by that time) and nearly kill us both to comply.

"What's this way?" I asked afterwards, cursing myself for blindly obeying instead of waiting until the next left turn like a halfway intelligent person.

He gave me a laughing look. "I have no idea whatsoever." Before I could get angry, he laughed gleefully, and I felt the rising frustration flowing away. "Does it matter?"

There was a point there. "It doesn't matter."

* * *

By three or four in the morning, I found myself driving again, the radio playing softly. It was relaxing after the howling loudness of the club Ryuichi-san had somehow talked me into after dinner, and certainly less dangerous. Earlier, I had had to hope that Ryuichi-san's cheerful, "It's so dark inside no one will ever know it's us!" was more than his usual blind optimism.

It had been all right, though I constantly pulled my bangs over my eyes in an attempt to hide my face, even a little, and whenever they played one of our songs (never the new one, I noticed) I tried to blend into the shadows. There had been a woman, more a girl, really, who had pulled me out to dance during _Believe Me_ and asked me excitedly if anyone had ever told me I looked like Seguchi Tohma. Afterwards, I had managed to yank Ryuichi-san out of a crowd of dancers (none of whom seemed to realize who he was, thankfully) and to the relative safety of the car.

We were in an old, familiar neighborhood now, though I hadn't been here in a while. Still, I knew a turn down the small street to the left led to a well-hidden parking lot which was the only place anywhere near Tokyo University with open parking slots in the middle of the afternoons. I knew, too, that continuing down that road, there was a dilapidated old building surrounded by overgrown cherry trees that housed a piano school. To the right was a twenty-four hour Zenny's, one of the few buildings still lit up at this hour. "Turn right," Ryuichi-san said. I already realized where he was leading me this time. I turned the corner, but the sign for the café where it seemed I had spent half my life was gone. I drove by twice, thinking I might have missed it. "I heard it was gone," Ryuichi-san said, his voice unreadable. "I wanted to see. Park anyway."

Inside the familiar building, the layout was the same, but the walls were painted a somber color and the piano was gone. Soft jazz was playing in the background, and a young bartender looked up from wiping down the counter, trying to hide sleepiness and boredom. "Fifteen minutes until closing, sirs," he said politely, though it was clear he had been hoping to close up early.

"We should probably go, then," I said, tired and ready for this whirlwind night to be over.

Ryuichi-san plopped down on a bar stool anyway. "We'll go in a couple of minutes," he said. "What happened to the café that used to be here?"

"Are you looking for Kitayama-san and his piano?" he said, his smile cooling. "I think he moved because too many people harassed him. Something about former clients that became famous. He never had any peace, so he thought it was better to relocate. At least that's what he told my father when we bought the building."

"I see," I said, feeling inexplicably saddened. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Are you looking for Kitayama-san?" the bartender asked again. "I'm sorry, I don't have his new address."

"No, we only… no, never mind," I said, pulling on Ryuichi-san's arm to get him to stand again. "I really think we should go."

"We'll come back some other day when you're not closing," Ryuichi-san added, though I didn't really want to come back here again. For some reason I couldn't name, the disappearance of the café hurt more than I could have imagined. I hadn't been there in years, but it had been _there_, a piece of me. Another missing piece, now. "Promise!" Ryuichi-san called out even as he let me pull him out of the door.

Outside, the street was eerily still with the quiet of the small hours when no one with half a mind was awake. A storm had been threatening all of the previous day, but only a soft, quiet rain was falling, just enough to break the heat of the night. It didn't seem worth caring about, so I let my hair become damp, cool raindrops dripping down the back of my neck. We went to the car, but neither of us got in.

"It's sad how things change, isn't it?" Ryuichi-san said, standing next to me and looking out into the night, though I didn't know what at. The rain was slowly but surely plastering his stylishly messy hair to his forehead. "You become so used to something, and you forget to appreciate it, but when it's gone you suddenly realize it isn't coming back, and that's sad." I let him talk, wondering what the point to this depressing little nighttime visit had been, and why he was once again voicing my thoughts. "But I think… maybe change isn't always so bad. I mean, what do we know? Maybe this new thing that has replaced that old, cherished thing is just as good. Maybe it's better. It could be, ne?"

I didn't at all like the way that had come out. "Or maybe it's worse," I said brusquely. "Maybe I didn't want it to change."

"But it did," he said, a note of finality in his voice. "It's gone. It isn't coming back. There's only this other thing now." I stayed silent as he turned to look at me, pushed a lock of my hair out of my eyes so we could lock gazes. "How do you know whether it's better or it's worse, or it's something, or it's nothing at all until you try?"

I found it hard to meet his eyes. "Because it's a very, very bad idea," I said, no longer speaking of the bar that had replaced the café.

"Maybe," he said, acknowledging that I had found the true meaning of his words. "Or maybe it isn't." He took a step closer, and his other hand joined the first to frame my face. "How can you be sure?"

I would have shaken my head if I could. Instead, I said, "I can't."

There was a slight smile on his face, but he ignored the second, underlying meaning of my response. "You can't," he only repeated. "So try." He took the final step, bringing our bodies into contact, warm and solid, familiar and different at the same time, and pulled my face down to his to kiss me.

And after a moment, I gave in, letting my eyes close and my arms come around to hold him. It was a feeling I had almost forgotten, someone so close, the air heavy, warm lips on mine, mind clouded, all mixed with that intoxicating feeling of being _wanted_. In that instant before I gave in, I realized that I had missed this, desperately, and in the end it was that that settled me.

Then I was clinging to him too, running my hands through hair that was soaking wet by now, forcing his mouth open, swallowing the satisfied murmur that brought forth. I lost control before I even thought to keep it. His hands were everywhere, running over my face, my back, then somehow under my shirt, cool and wet and promising. Before I knew what was happening, my shirt was already halfway unbuttoned and I had pinned him against the car.

I swallowed a shuddering breath as he nipped at my neck and tried to get my bearings. "I think… we're crazy."

He laughed slightly, and nipped the same spot again, relishing the automatic reaction and the small sound in my throat I couldn't quite suppress. "Probably. It's… raining I think."

"Yes, and-" He kissed me again in the middle of my sentence and for a few moments there was no talking until I managed to speak a second time. "Yes. Raining. And public. Crazy."

This time, he listened. "Crazy," he agreed, not letting go for an instant. Then, "Oh well."

"Ryuichi-san-"

Somehow, he reached behind himself and I heard the click of the opening car door. "Raining," he agreed. "And public. Let's go." He gave me no chance to argue, slipping out from between my arms and into the car, leaving me no choice but to walk around to my own side, terribly confused. He handed me my keys, looked at me silently for a moment as if weighing something, his breathing still not quite steady. "I'm coming home with you," he told me. "…Drive fast."

And because I was smart enough to realize there was a point from which there was no returning, I only nodded and started the car.


	19. Learning to Settle

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Seventeen: Learning to Settle**

* * *

Author's notes: Anyone who expects a beautiful, healthy relationship to grow between Tohma and Ryu-chan now that Tohma's finally given in to hormones and wondering what could be… um, you probably really won't like this chapter terribly much. But I have to say I love it, even (especially) when it grows particularly limey and dark and introspective…

Beware of fanservice and angst ahead, and the slide from September to December. Ooh, and the next chapter will be an interlude :niko: It's been a while since I've posted a song, don't you think?

Before I let you get onto the reading, I have a request. A shoutout to all artists… does anyone feel like drawing me fanart? I plan to make a separate webpage for this story eventually, with art, and side stories, and, yes, probably the unposted lemons (they do exist, you know), as well as recordings of the songs (working on that) for download and so on. So… takers? Artists who aren't too embarrassed to be associated with me? lol

Disclaimer: I own… nothing, actually. I owned the café, but now it's a bar, and Murakami-sensei owns that since it's the same one we see in the series, over and over…

* * *

After, we lay awake for a long time. Ryuichi-san was still sprawled almost messily across the bed, his arm draped across my chest the only contact between our bodies, but I could tell he was awake, and thinking, like I was, long after my heart had stopped hammering against my ribs and my mind cleared. That was different. Eiri-kun had always curled into my side and fallen asleep in the afterglow. I had, on more than one occasion, likened his behavior to that of a kitten when he settled against me and fell into immediate sleep the moment my arms came around him. Usually, I had stayed awake for a while after him, free to stroke his hair and listen to his deep, regular breathing before sliding into sleep myself. But in this after, the silence was different, because I was not the only one awake, and there was no slow, regular breathing against my neck, nor a slight, warm body, heavy with sleepiness, curled trustingly at my side-

_Stop it_.

Even Ryuichi-san had not expected the flash and fire that leapt up so effortlessly between him and myself. For a while, stumbling into my apartment, shedding wet clothes along the way, running into furniture and nearly tripping on rugs, I had been astounded by it. Not even the spontaneous kiss in the rain that had turned into so much more had prepared me. But I thought I might have had a dream like this once, long ago, the last time I had been miserably unhappy, a dream that wasn't quite like a dream, except this time I still had the bruise from running into a table and I wasn't waking by myself, because I couldn't manage to get to sleep-

_Stop it. Don't do this._

I had been so starved for affection and contact that I should have scared him, but he had only drawn me on, seemingly unaffected by my pace and my insatiable hunger, only continuing to give, and tearing responses out of me to take for himself. With hands and lips and teeth and tongue he had driven me halfway to madness, demanding without words that I lose myself. I was still not sure whether it had been sex or war that had happened, a frantic battle for dominance which I had only partially won. That was different too, just like the fact that, even after I had had him screaming from pleasure, he did not immediately melt into trusting sleep in my arms, but rolled out from under me to sprawl so that we were barely touching and stayed awake, his mind somewhere else entirely-

_Don't do this. Don't think about this._

My body felt light, blissfully battered and wonderful. My mind, though, was not sharing the satisfied exhaustion. It had kicked into full gear as soon as the sex or the war or whatever the hell it had been was over, to tell me that I hadn't even realized I had been afraid of going over the edge and had done so anyway. That was the only thing that had been at all similar to before. I still remembered with crystal clarity that cold night in December and the first time Eiri-kun had come to me, wide-eyed and determined, a first time in many senses of the word, his, mine, ours-

_Don't think about this. Stop comparing._

I had been afraid then too, of hurting him, of my own actions, and the fear had hidden itself under the heat. That unforgettable first night that had turned into many nights as we learned from our mistakes, found new ways to touch, to hold, to arouse, to prolong, to drive each other half-wild, had been the only time I had feared with him. After, being with him had made me fearless, invincible. This fear had been different, just as this kind of first had been different. There had been no hesitation on either of our parts, no inexperience to make us cautious. I had gone in knowing what we could bring each other, and he had not been the only one to cry out, and now I was not the only one awake with thoughts that were more dark than anything. It had been the first time I had flown without being anchored in reality, and that was what was so terrifying, especially when it added a new, dark edge to the pleasure-

_STOP it!_

And it was halfway impossible not to cry, because my body felt so fantastic and my mind kept wandering back to things I should not have been thinking about, _finished_ things, _lost_ things, _unchangeable_ things. But I didn't, couldn't, because I wasn't the only one awake, like I had been in the _before_, and now, in the _after_, my thoughts were a jumble and I knew even without looking at the clock that it was practically dawn and I would not be sleeping, and if neither of us slept, one of us would have to talk, and I had no idea what to say-

"What are you thinking about?" I had always known Ryuichi-san must be braver than me, so it only stood to reason that he would speak first.

"I'm not sure. Too many things. You, mostly." _And whether I just helped or hurt myself._

"Do you feel better?" he asked. I opened my eyes to see he was regarding me from across the bed, though he made no move to come closer.

"I haven't decided," I answered honestly, because I could never lie when he watched me with his eyes like that.

"I'm not asking you if you're all right," he said softly. "I know you're not all right. I'm only asking if anything from the time I dragged you out of the building helped at all."

"Probably," I replied. "I needed to relax." _Oh yes, good way to describe what just happened._

The arm across my chest moved, the hand wandering down my chest with feather-light touches, stopping again to rest on my stomach. A smile touched his eyes when he saw my involuntary shiver. I was nowhere near ready for another battle with the inferno that grew between us, but the light, seemingly unobtrusive touches made me long for it, anyway. "You were wound tighter than a spring," he told me. "I was afraid you were going to explode." His smile grew a little wicked, the hand began to wander lower. "Figuratively speaking. Mostly."

That was enough to get a smile on my face, and a slightly breathless laugh. Between those singularly uncharacteristic words and his hand's skipping from just below my stomach to explore my thigh, there was enough to think about that the dark thoughts were mostly pushed out of my mind. "I think I did."

He laughed too, and pulled me towards him. But instead of continuing his rather interesting activities once I had willingly settled into his arms, he only stroked a hand gently down my back, then stopped moving, simply holding me. "I wish you weren't so torn about this," he said into my hair. "I'm not asking anything from you right now. You need something to hold on to. Please, let me be that something."

"That's all you want?" I asked, allowing myself to relax now, and realizing I really was more tired than I had imagined.

"It's all I'm asking," he corrected me gently, shifting to settle more comfortably. I was the one curled into his arms now, my head settled against his shoulder, and it was warm and comfortable and strangely comforting in its unfamiliarity. "Hold on to me. Don't think about anything else for a little while. Go to sleep."

My arms settled around his waist and I did.

* * *

It occurred to me that this was the second time in less than a month that Ryuichi-san came in to work wearing my clearly oversized clothing when Noriko-san gave us narrow-eyed, speculative looks upon our entrance to the studio. There just hadn't been enough time once we had finally woken up for more than a quick shower and a hastily gulped down lunch; then I had had to speed as it was just to get us to Shinjin by two. The only thing she said, though, apart from an automatic greeting, was, "If we don't manage to be productive after getting the morning off, I think we should start planning our funerals."

"What a cheerful thought," I sighed, but settled into a chair next to her as she started up the computer into which she had been entering all the fragments and pieces of melody she had received from me while I was in New York. "Probably accurate, though."

Ryuichi-san made a face and turned around the chair next to mine to sit in it backwards, leaning on the chair back and watching the pages of notes scroll by as Noriko-san browsed through the "random" file. His face reflected in the monitor was unreadable, but most traces of the child were gone. He, too, was worried.

"Four songs at least to fill out the new disk," Noriko-san said, continuing to send the music whizzing by. "At least one of them needs to be…" she grimaced, "better than the last one," she finally decided on her words.

I, too, watched the music going by. There was a great deal of potential in some of it, I knew, but some of it had just been playing around and most of it was just sketches. It needed polishing and rearranging to be the sort of thing we were known for. I knew it was because of me that we were in this situation, but bizarrely enough neither of them seemed to be blaming me. "A month and a half to do it," I added. "Which would be easy if we were working at full power. We're not."

"Tohma-"

"It's true, Ryuichi-san," I cut him off, giving him a hint of a smile to show it wasn't him I was angry with. "I'm saying it because it's not something that can easily be ignored. We're professionals."

"Professional enough not to send ourselves on guilt trips over something we can do nothing about, I hope," Noriko-san snapped and turned her narrowed violet eyes on me. "If you can fix it, fix it. If you can't, shut up and do your best." Clearly, she wasn't in the best of moods.

Ryuichi-san immediately teared up. "You're mean Noriko-chan!" he accused her. "We're all in this together!"

"Together, yes, but I'm the part that's malfunctioning," I cut him off again. "She's only telling the truth."

"You can't force yourself to compose!" Ryuichi-san insisted. "Whether or not we argue about this, it isn't going to change that!"

"Then why are we arguing?" I asked, my voice taking on a hard edge despite myself. "You can't keep saving me forever!"

"You're too hard on-"

"_Shut. Up._ Both of you," Noriko-san said through clenched teeth. "Before I grab you both by the collar and bang your heads together before handing you over to K. And I know for a fact you like both of those shirts, Tohma-kun. You don't want bullet holes in them." She turned back to the computer. "Now then, children, if we can all get along, I was thinking we need to do something about this."

She had pulled up one of the more finished sketches. She pressed the playback key, and the computer began to play mechanically. I remembered writing this one down, one long, snowy Sunday afternoon near the end of January, the lights inside on to dampen the quiet whiteness outside. There was a fireplace in the main room of the apartment, one Mrs. Smith usually used as a space to display flowers and candles, but that day there was actually a small fire flickering, because Eiri-kun had wanted it. We had still been on the initial high then, wanting to keep the other close, and he had been there, curled into the loveseat with a book and a cup of tea, as well as a slice of the apple pie Mrs. Smith had made us the day before, only he had fallen asleep, and I spent half my energy watching the light skimming over his golden head. I had been so distracted that the melody I had been playing softly wandered constantly, never settling into one key and one mood. When this fragment had come out, I only noticed it after I was playing through the refrain a second time, because the mood was more melancholy and nostalgic than happy, the last thing I would have expected my mind to come up with. So I had written it down quickly, intending to come back to it another day because I didn't want to explore the sadness when the snow was falling outside the window and the room was flickering with firelight and scented with cinnamon, and really, working on Sunday when I could pull him into my arms and be steeped in the warmth and fall into a light, contented catnap was ridiculous.

He had murmured as I squeezed into the really undersized loveseat with him, then kissed my hand (the easiest thing to reach) sleepily and said, "Pretty. Whatever it was."

"Are you awake?"

"Mmm. No. Go to sleep."

"Tohma?" I shook myself free of the powerful hold of the memory, confused for a moment to see Ryuichi-san and Noriko-san watching me curiously. "Are you sleeping?" Ryuichi-san said. "You have kind of a blank look in your eyes."

_Lovely. Now I'm dreaming about him when I'm awake._ The music was going through its fourth loop now, still mechanically precise as always with a computer. "I really hate that computer," I said instead of answering him, and stood up to go to the piano. "It never catches the… feeling."

I put my hands on the keys and played through what there had been with pauses, dynamics, putting the emotions that were still so fresh in my memory back in the music. I didn't notice at first that I was modifying it, cleaning it, polishing, changing chords, teasing out the feelings and the _sense_ of the music. But as the song steadily began to change, take on form, as I stopped playing what was on the page and started adding what I remembered, even I realized what was happening. As I finished it, I looked up to see Noriko-san had tears in her eyes, and had temporarily borrowed Kumagoro to hug him.

Ryuichi-san's smile was so luminous it seemed to light up the room. "The music is back," he said.

And I realized he was right; even now that I was no longer playing, the shifting melodic line that had been gone was once again in the back of my mind, faintly distracting because it had been gone so long. I knew there was shock and naked pleasure written across my face. One of the missing pieces had fallen back into place. "It's back," I agreed, completely staggered.

Then Noriko-san was hugging me, and I wasn't sure whether she was laughing or crying, but her grip was so tight it was almost uncomfortable. "We're going to be all right," she kept repeating. "We're going to make it. We're going to be all right."

* * *

The summer that had seemed to last a lifetime finally succumbed to fall. The days became cool and the nights cold, and rain came more and more often, cool, soft rain that dampened the sound of the city and made me want to throw open my windows and let in the rustling quiet.

Once again, we were dominating the charts. Once again, the days were filled with rehearsals and composing and arranging and media appearances and the press. Once again, we received awed looks as we walked down the halls of Shinjin, once again we were drowning in offers to host programs on the radio and television, once again we were on billboards all over Tokyo, once again a concert tour was being mapped out.

Slowly, life regained its color. There were good days and bad ones, honest smiles, laughter, and jokes. My dreams faded into obscurity as I struggled to stop remembering them. There were still nights when I woke suddenly from something vivid and disorienting, but I had only to reach out my arms, and there was someone to hold and anchor me back in reality.

It was a strange relationship that had developed between myself and Ryuichi-san. Very little seemed to have changed from the way we had been before, but when the day was over and we left the studio, invariably it was together. On occasion, he dragged me someplace, though this became rarer as the mania around us grew.

To my vast surprise, we really did find ourselves often in the small bar that I had so despised the first night he had brought me there, and Ryuichi-san was right, it was not the same, but it was not terrible or hateful for it. The bartenders knew us now, and on the rare occasions it was necessary, would unobtrusively lock down so that the two or three of us could sit and speak in peace. I grew fond of it in my own way, though it inspired nostalgia each time we walked through the doors. That was the way our relationship was too, somehow not quite the sort of thing it should have been, yet comfortable and even quietly lovely, sometimes.

There was no incredible gravitational pull between us, nothing that dizzied and disoriented. Instead, his presence at my side grounded me, something I found vastly relieving after being so disconnected for so long. And though I felt nothing pulling me towards him, no strange force that made me want to watch him as he slept for hours, my eyes would occasionally wander the room absently until I found him, as if to make sure he was still there, and when he smiled or waved at me, it warmed me, just a little bit. And even without that strange, intoxicating, endless sea of emotion I had drowned in before, desire and heat rose between us easily, and I never slept alone anymore, whether he followed me home or the other way around.

On the rare occasions I thought about it, I couldn't quite pin down what I felt towards him: a certain mix of affection, desire and dependence that was difficult to qualify. But it was clear I did depend on him, and as we became used to each other, as we discovered each other's bodies and thoughts little by little in the following months, he became such an integral part of my existence that I could no longer quite imagine the days and nights without him.

"Love is different, you know, for different people," Noriko-san told me once. "And even for the same person, I think. You can never have the same love twice. I think maybe we're not supposed to try to define it." I wasn't sure what had prompted her to say something like that to me one day during one of our quickly snatched lunch breaks while Ryuichi-san was off scouring every candy machine in the building for milk-flavored pocky. I knew she knew, of course. The three of us had few secrets, even when something was not said aloud. But even without words, the subtle change that our private relationship had caused in the public one could not have escaped her notice. She never offered advice or criticism, so we didn't discuss it. That was the closest she had ever come to acknowledging her awareness aloud.

"Saa…" was all I said, biting into a sandwich and glancing at my watch to make sure we weren't late for costume fittings. But what she had said gave me a strange sort of peace. I stopped trying to make sense of my relationship with Ryuichi-san, letting it carry me along tranquilly. In a way, I thought maybe this warm, unobtrusive comfort might have been better in the long run than the overwhelming heat and constant longing I knew as "love". At least, I told myself so often enough that I started to believe it.

We never discussed the status of our relations with him, either, not even when we lay awake in the afterglow, limbs tangled, still wrapped lightly around each other, hearts slowing to a regular pattern from the erratic pulse they beat when we came together. Sex had never stopped being a sort of war with us, just like the first time, and we had never quite found any real measure of tenderness. The idea of slow, languid lovemaking seemed a thing of the distant past, one I could hardly remember. It was as if we were afraid to look under the fire, which was easy, to examine what was underneath, which was not. At least, I was afraid, and he knew and never pushed me in that direction.

We did talk, though, sometimes for hours, about thoughts and music and friends and family. There were subjects that were unspoken taboos, but he seemed to instinctively know which ones not to touch, so we lay them aside, and I found myself growing almost fearless with someone again. The tenderness came only after, once we were falling into drowsiness that preceded the deep, exhausted sleep of the overworked. I often fell asleep first, now, with his hand lightly stroking my hair.

And as I settled into this pattern, fall slipped by to be replaced with the freezing rains that heralded the arrival of winter. There were no calls from Kyoto. After a while, I taught myself not to wait for them.


	20. Interlude: Air

**Shooting Stars**

**Interlude: Air**

* * *

Author's notes: So here's what a loser I am ::giggles:: In Remix 6, Ryuichi rambles on about a song called "Air". And because I had nothing better to do, and no particular plans for this interlude other than the fact that it had to exist, I decided, hey, why the heck not? This would be the new single, with the melody that brought back Tohma's music in the last chapter. And then the poetry just grabbed me and took off…

One of these years I need to get off my lazy bum and have these songs arranged and recorded, don't I?

Disclaimer: My lyrics. Yes, that's right. Mine. I disclaim nothing. Take and die.

* * *

**Air**

Cold lips, cold hands, cold eyes, cold mind,  
I feel you leaving me behind,  
And even while you hold me now  
I always feel alone somehow.  
We're walking on air, don't look down,  
Don't look down, don't look down…

Hold your breath a little while,  
Just let me breathe you in.  
In the dark your sudden silence  
Fits me like a second skin.

But that's all right, I know your mind  
And the secrets that it hides;  
It only hurts a little while  
And they say pain purifies.

You're letting go of letting go,  
I'm letting go of all.  
So let those things all fall away  
But please don't watch them fall…

Cold lips, cold hands, cold eyes, cold mind,  
I feel you leaving me behind,  
And even while you hold me now  
I always feel alone somehow.  
We're walking on air, don't look down,  
Don't look down, don't look down…

I'll hold on to your clarity  
And bleed away your doubt;  
A little hope can't hurt too much,  
I've always had to go without…

Cold lips, cold hands, cold eyes, cold mind,  
I feel you leaving me behind,  
And even while you hold me now  
I always feel alone somehow.  
We're walking on air, don't look down,  
Don't look down, don't look down…

It's kind of like holding on  
To something that isn't there,  
It's kind of like living in dreams,  
A little like walking on air…


	21. Snowfall

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Eighteen: Snowfall**

* * *

Author's notes: Before your usual notes, I'd like to thank all of my reviewers and loyal readers… this is already the longest single piece of continuous fic I have ever written, and when I broke 200 reviews I swear I cried. You guys are amazing; I'm not sure I could keep going like this without you here to support me. Thank you!

This is definitely the last chapter you people get before I head home for the holidays. I'm not sure I'll have the time or the inclination to write when I have two weeks with my friends and family, so you may have to wait until January for the next bit. Hopefully this can tide you over until then?

This chapter… well, I've wanted to play with Mika again, and I have a morbid fascination with this side of Eiri. He's going to go through a few metamorphoses still before he's the person you know in the series, but he's coming closer with every chapter—which makes the muse terribly difficult to work with, since mostly he just tells me to fuck off when I try to get him to be productive :lol: In the interest of not losing "cute" Eiri, the flashbacks return! There should be something in almost every chapter, because too much fluff at once is stifling, but a little mixed in with angst is golden…

Disclaimer: Don't own anything yet. Who wants to give me Ryuichi in his stage costume for Christmas?

* * *

"That was a good one!"

"Good work!"

"Gorgeous! You had them eating out of your hands!"

"I think maybe on the introduction to the second part next time, we need to try more purple backlight; Naoki has been redesigning the lighting scheme-"

"Here, have a towel, you're dripping, Sakuma-san!"

"Here's Kumagoro, I took good care of him for you while you were performing-"

"Noriko-chan, did the new blouse work out? We haven't had the chance to get it refitted yet-"

"You look like you need a drink." A bottle of water was thrust into my hands as I stood in the backstage chaos, letting the familiar demands, compliments and general cacophony wash over me, ignoring it as it wasn't directly aimed at me.

I took a drink gratefully, smiling slightly at the techie—I thought I had seen her before once or twice, but it was hard to keep track of them all—before handing it back. "Thanks."

She grinned at me, winked, then disappeared somewhere in the crowd. Exhaustedly, I pulled off my hat and ran a hand through my hair, wet and sticky with sweat and styling products. My left hand was cramping slightly again; it had the bad habit of hurting if I overworked it when the weather turned wet and it was snowing here in Sapporo, and had been since we had arrived the day before.

This tour was really stretching out; it was almost February and we had only just gotten back into Japan to work our way south after traipsing across China and Korea. I was as grateful for my native language backstage as I was for the length and sheer demand of the tour pace. It had helped me to get through the beginning of winter, and every day was a little easier, except when I saw snow outside my windows.

_Over a year now_.

I squashed the thought viciously as I had been since the first time I had seen the snow and it had had the unwanted effect of throwing me back into the past. The unwelcome dreams and dark moods came more often when it was snowing. With a sigh, I walked into my dressing room, already full of flowers and presents, and started rummaging around for the painkillers.

The door opened and I smiled when I realized it was Ryuichi-san. "I wish we were in Okinawa already," I murmured as he came in and closed the door behind him. He had a towel around his neck and his hair was soaked almost all the way through. He sprawled on the nearest chair, wearing little more than an imaginative leather vest and pants that looked spray-painted on. Kumagoro was perched on his head, as usual.

He laughed, his face shining with joy and triumph as it always did after a show. "Are you cold?"

"No, wardrobe has yet to send _me_ onstage naked," I said, lifting an eyebrow at him, walking over and pulling the towel from around his neck to wipe at my face with it.

Ryuichi-san's smile was on the mischievous side. "It takes almost five minutes to get into these pants," he informed me.

I looked down at where they rode low, molding narrow hips and hugging long, rangy legs, and felt an appreciative tug of desire—the effect they were surely meant to have. "And to get out of them?" I asked, voice and face innocent.

He smirked, nearly choking on a laugh, his eyes glittering. "Haven't tried yet. Want to go find out?"

Before I could answer the tempting invitation, there was a knock on the door. "Excuse me, Seguchi-san! Telephone call!"

I shrugged an apology to Ryuichi-san as I opened the door to the same young woman who had brought me water earlier. "I thought I asked not to be disturbed on show nights," I said with a touch of impatience.

The girl looked uncomfortable, but that didn't stop her looking around me into the room. Ryuichi-san gave her a lazy wave and she blushed to the roots of her hair. "I know, Seguchi-san, but K-san talked to her and told me to put her through to you."

I realized the cell phone she was holding did, indeed, belong to K-san. That was mystifying enough that I actually brought the phone up to my ear. K-san let very little interfere with our work. "Moshi moshi?"

"Tohma? Have I finally gotten through to you, and not an assistant of an assistant of the water girl? For the love of-"

"Mika-san?" I said incredulously, falling bonelessly into the chair opposite Ryuichi-san's. I hadn't even placed her voice right away, it had been so long. "Is that you?"

Her response was an exclamation of, "Finally!"

Impatiently, I waved the girl who was still gawking in the doorway away. Ryuichi-san was still seated across from me, watching me with a mix of worry and something I couldn't place. "It's been a long time, Mika-san," I said.

"Somewhat longer than it could have been, since I've spent the past week and a half trying to get in touch with you." Her voice still held hints of frustration, but there was affection there as well. "I was beginning to think you were lost, too."

"We just got back from China," I said by way of explanation. "I haven't had my mobile phone since we left Japan a month ago." Slowly, my mind caught up with what she had said. "Wait, what? Lost, too?"

She sighed deeply on the other end of the line "This is a really miserable way to get back in touch," she complained. "I was going to give you a little time to heal; I never expected to be calling you in these circumstances."

"What circumstances?" I asked, confused and wary.

"Eiri's run away. Again." She kept talking but I was no longer listening. There was a look very near panic in Ryuichi-san's blue eyes, probably in reaction to whatever expression was on my face. He stood up to come to me, but I weakly shook my head. He stopped, looking hurt, then retreated back into his chair and continued to watch me. Forcibly, I tuned my mind back into Mika-san's voice. "-just in case, even though I didn't think he would."

I forced myself to focus. "Repeat what you just said, please?" I asked with a faint voice. "The connection is fuzzy."

There was silence for a moment, then she resumed talking. "I said, he's been gone for two weeks. At first, we didn't think anything of it, he does this often, now, vanishing for a day or two, we're almost used to it, but this time he hasn't come back. We've tried calling the people he might have gone to, but no one has seen him. Since the last two times he ran away for extended periods of time he ended up with you, Otousan insisted that we get in touch with you. He seems to be holding on to the idea that Eiri ran to you, so we decided to call just in case-"

"-Even though you didn't think he would," I finished, the fragment of sentence making perfect sense now. "I see." I closed my eyes as a shield from Ryuichi-san's inquisitive gaze as the reality of emotions I had almost forgotten existed washed over me: terror, love and an incredible, tearing pain. "You were right," I said woodenly. "He wouldn't run to me."

She was quiet for a moment, as if choosing her words. "Otousan wanted me to go to Tokyo, to your apartment to… to make sure he wasn't there." She stumbled on the statement. "I tried to do it without calling you, but the security is really top-notch, they won't even let me near the building-"

"Of course," I interrupted her. "I'll call and arrange it so you can." It was as if an old wound, almost scarred over, had suddenly reopened. It was amazing how much it could hurt after all this time. "But you're wasting your time, Mika-san. He's made all his choices where it concerns me; it's highly doubtful he would seek protection from anything by my side again."

Her voice was soft, even gentle, washing over me almost as if she was trying to caress and comfort me with it. "I'm sorry, Tohma … I wish… I really… I've missed you," she finished the disjointed statement finally, altering what she had been going to say. "I've been worrying about you, but you seem a little better when I see you on television. I bought a ticket to your Kyoto show next week, you know, I was going to go see you there, I'm so sorry that I had to call you like this instead…" She trailed off and sniffled, as if fighting back tears.

I felt heavier than lead, and something deep inside me was throbbing painfully. "I'll send you a backstage pass. You shouldn't have wasted your money; I would have sent you however many tickets you wanted if you had asked," I said mechanically, trying to ignore her pity because I didn't want it. "I hope you find…" His name was on the tip of my tongue, but I found those three syllables, too, would hurt if spoken; it was something I had not uttered in months. "I hope you find your brother," I finished.

"I'll keep you informed," she said after another moment, following up with another sniffle. "I'll see you next week," she said, sounding clearly miserable.

"Next week," I agreed. "Don't cry, Mika-san. Everything will be fine." Even to my ears that sounded hollow.

"I'm not crying. I'll see you." She hung up.

For a few moments I sat in silence, my head lowered and my eyes closed. I nearly jerked away from the soft, comforting touch of a cool hand on my forehead before I realized it was Ryuichi-san. Still, I did not relax into the well-meant caress.

"Tohma…" I didn't open my eyes because I knew what I would see in his eyes: concern, worry, and all the pain I was feeling inside would be reflected there. "Did you want me to get you something?" he finally said.

"I want… to be alone for a while," I just said. "Sorry."

Immediately, the hand was withdrawn, as if the touch of my skin burned. "I'll see you back at the hotel," he said quietly. "You're sure you don't want me to stay?"

I knew he was offering to stay so that he could alleviate the pain somehow, share it if he could. "I'm sure."

I heard only the door opening and shutting to alert me to his leaving. Only when I knew I was alone did I lift heavy eyelids to look at my reflection in the make-up mirror across the room. I saw a face devoid of all color under stage make-up and enormous green eyes dilated until they seemed almost black. The colorless lips were trembling slightly.

Inside, emotions were raging, strong, dizzying, wild emotions that I had almost forgotten how to feel. I had almost forgotten I _could_ feel them. Love, first, no weaker after months of being locked away, less sweet than bitter, tinged with insane need and longing. Over it spread a sickly layer of guilt. Terror, next, clawing at everything inside, overpowering rational thought. And layered over everything, indescribable pain, because I knew there was nothing to be done. It made me want to scream.

But I realized, even then, that in the months I had been settling into security… I had never felt this alive.

* * *

In the general run of things I usually woke quickly and painlessly. I had never hated mornings like many of those who surrounded me. If the sun was up and I had had a healthy amount of sleep, and often if I hadn't, I was still out of bed easily. However, the morning after the Hokkaido show, my inner alarm clock seemed to be malfunctioning. By the time I crawled out of the unfamiliar hotel bed, the clock on the nightstand showed nearly noon, and I still felt exhausted.

There had been dreams again, and because Ryuichi-san had taken my request to be left alone at face value, there had been no one to turn to to make them go away.

_Tohma, let's go outside._

_It's snowing. The weather forecast says it's only going to get worse. It might turn into a full-out blizzard._

_Exactly. Let's go play!_

_Eiri-kun, it's below freezing out there._

_What, don't you think I can keep you warm?_

I stared dully at the window—the light coming into the room was soft and white. It was still snowing. I went to the window to pull the curtains closed and turned on the light, making everything falsely bright and cheerful with electricity. It made me feel a little better.

_Do you know, I never thought I'd end up loving winter. I never liked the cold._

_Yes, I can tell. You have the heat up to tropical in here._

_Hmm… but I like watching the snow falling. It makes me think of you._

The quiet was disconcerting. I had once again grown unaccustomed to mornings alone.

_Time slows down when it's snowing, and the world gets smaller. There's nothing except you._

I spent almost half an hour under the shower, a luxury I rarely allowed myself. But everything seemed to be moving incredibly slowly that day, almost as it had those first few days after the events in New York. For a while, I leaned my forehead against the cool tile of the shower wall as the hot water beat down on me. _Am I regressing?_

_I wish I could stay here forever._

_You can. I promised, didn't I?_

When I was finally ready for the day, I headed into the lobby of the top floor of the hotel, which was a sort of meeting place for those inhabiting the four suites that made up the floor. It was mostly empty—no one was being allowed up here other than the three of us and K-san. The manager was off on business as usual and Ryuichi-san, too, was nowhere to be seen, but Noriko-san was stretched out on one of the couches, wearing an enormous fluffy sweater the color of fresh poppies and drinking something out of a steaming cup. She lifted her eyes from the magazine she had been reading and smiled lightly. "Good morning, Tohma-kun."

"It's afternoon," I said.

She shrugged. "Yeah. It doesn't really matter, since both of us only just crawled out of bed. It might as well be morning." I settled down next to her, and she passed me her cup. "I'm too lazy to call room service again," she told me.

I sipped and found that it was coffee, though too sweet and diluted with cream for my taste. "Thanks."

She only smiled as I passed the cup back and shifted so that she could sit leaning against me. "Anytime. Someone has to take care of you when you're moping."

"I'm not moping," I told her coolly, taking the cup back and sipping again.

"Sure you're not. That would be why Ryu-chan spent the greater part of last night in my room looking like a lost little boy. I remember that look; you've come to me with it before. Did you fight?" She smiled a little. "Come on, tell Okaasan everything, she'll make it better or die trying."

I felt a boundless sadness welling up inside me; she had it all wrong. "We didn't fight. You don't have to worry about it."

She sighed, taking the coffee and finishing off the cup. "All right," she agreed with me. "You didn't fight. Will you indulge me and let me worry about you anyway?"

"Nothing's been able to stop you yet."

"There is that," she agreed with a little laugh. "Admit it, without me to mother you, you would still not know how to dress yourself properly."

Before I could counterattack, the elevator opened and K-san walked into the lobby with a tray of pastries and a coffeepot. "Awake? Good, I was starting to wonder if the two of you were ever going to rejoin the living," he said. He looked at the one empty cup on the end table. "Let me guess, hungry but too lazy to call room service?"

"Give me that," Noriko-san demanded by way of an answer. "It's not our fault we're lazy if we're overworked." She grabbed up the first pastry on the tray and began devouring it.

K-san took a seat across from us and watched her with amusement. "Not hungry, Seguchi?"

"Not particularly," I told him.

He looked at me for a minute, considering. "I apologize for the phone call last night," he said suddenly. "I thought it would be better to put her through to you than not."

"Don't apologize," I said exhaustedly. Noriko-san, clearly having not heard of this, looked at both of us inquisitively. "It was important."

"But it threw you off balance."

"I'm perfectly on balance. I'm just thinking." _And oh, how I wish some days I could stop._

_Even if it gets complicated, I'll stay. I'll be with you. Always._

"As a matter of fact, K-san, I'm going to need to ask you a favor," I said, knowing that even though Mika-san hadn't asked, my own words and emotions locked me into taking care of it.

_You can always rely on me. I promise I will never let you fall._

"There's someone I need to have located, and as quickly as possible…"

* * *

As I expected, K-san was quick and efficient. He had news for me three days later, in Sendai. "Whoever you had looking for him before is incompetent," he informed me. "He's still in Kyoto, though the neighborhood he's holed up in leaves much to be desired. Did you want me to have him picked up and escorted home?"

I shook my head. "No," I said, surprising myself. "We'll be in Kyoto in a few days. I'll go get him myself."

"I don't know that I approve. The district he's hiding in is better known for drugs and teen gangs than anything else. It's not safe."

"K-san." I fixed him with a pointed glare. "I _said_, I'll go get him myself." The last thing the Uesugis needed was K-san's questionable acquaintances dragging their son home. They had enough problems and (and this was paramount) I felt loath to give him up to somewhat hostile-minded strangers.

He looked surprised for a moment to see me standing up to him, but then his face broke out into a huge smile. "Seguchi-_san_, have it your way." He had been treating me more and more as an equal since New York. Generally when he tagged an honorific onto my name, it meant he was particularly pleased with something I had done.

"I'm grateful for your help. I'll take care of it from here." _I'll take care of him, whatever it takes._

_Even if he no longer remembers or wants me to._

* * *

K-san had been right about the neighborhood. It was hard not to wrinkle my nose in distaste. The buildings were rickety and the paint was peeling, and I knew I looked entirely out of place, even though I had dressed down in hopes of avoiding notice. K-san had insisted on a car with a driver about three times my size to bring me here. As I stepped out of it I huddled into my long, black coat and pretended to be largely indifferent to the people watching me. I waved at the driver to keep him from leaving the car; I seriously doubted I'd need the bodyguard.

I found the address that had been given me easily enough, a small apartment on the second floor of one of the rickety buildings. The stairwell smelled like stale cigarette smoke and beer and I wished for a few moments to be somewhere, anywhere else. It wasn't that the place itself had such an effect on me, but imagining him here hurt.

I had to knock three times before the door was opened by a boy about Eiri-kun's age. He had bleached hair and more ear piercings than Ryuichi-san, and he towered over me by a good head. "What?" he said instead of a greeting, glaring down at me.

I hadn't really been expecting particular courtesy. "Uesugi Eiri," I told him, my voice coolly polite. "Now, please."

He blinked down at me as though the fact that I had talked was astounding to him. "Man, what the hell?"

"_Now_, please," I repeated. Somehow, after associating so long with K-san, this struck me as more annoying than intimidating. After getting so close to him after such a long time, anything that was stopping my seeing him was not welcome.

Another boy joined him in the doorway, a half-smoked cigarette sticking out of his mouth. "The hell, Kazu?"

I barely kept in a comment about being astounded by the richness of their vocabulary. "I really hate having to repeat myself," I said instead. "Especially when I've asked nicely."

"Hey, fuck you, pretty boy," said the second boy.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Tempting as that is, no thanks."

He looked angry enough to lunge at me, but before he could make up his mind to do it, another voice, this one achingly familiar, called from inside, "What's with the noise? Damn it!" Moments later, he appeared at the door too, his eyes blank, then filling with disbelief as he saw me.

It was hard not to react to his appearance; it was like a punch in the stomach. His hair had grown too long and mostly hid those fantastic golden eyes, and his clothes were dirty and rumpled. He was thin, almost dangerously so, and the clothes hung off of his frame. He had a cigarette in his hand, too, though he seemed to have forgotten about it. "The hell?" he said.

"I'm so glad to see you're learning so much from your new friends, Eiri-kun," I said coldly. It was so surreal; it was him in front of me, but not him. I barely recognized him. His voice had finished changing and he had grown again; he was taller than me now. "It's time to go now."

"Hey, who does this guy think he-"

Eiri-kun waved his hand dismissively. "Drop it, Kazu. I'll deal." The other two boys shrugged but walked into the depths of the apartment. I heard a television turning on. "Why are you here, Seguchi-san?"

"I should think that's obvious," I said marveling at my coolness in dealing with this new person I had never seen before. There was a glimmer under his hair; I realized he must have had his ears pierced. "We're going. Now."

"I don't want to go anywhere," he told me. His smile was not kind as he lifted the cigarette to his mouth and took a long drag. I reached up and pulled it out of his hands, throwing it on the ground and stepping on it. He never stopped smiling as he blew the bitter smoke in my face. "What if I say no?"

"Then I go back to my original plan of having you dragged out of here against your will by people who are a great deal less sympathetic." I forced myself to smile softly. "I'm sure your… stellar companions would be less than thrilled."

He watched me for a long moment, then shrugged. "Whatever. I was getting bored anyway." He walked out into the stairwell and shut the door behind him.

"You don't have anything?" I asked.

"It's all worthless shit, anyway," he said. "Well? Changed your mind already?"

Wordlessly, I followed him down the stairs, pointed him into the car, and gave the address of the temple when I was also inside. Silently, the driver pulled away from the curb.

"Damn, the old man's going to be pissed," Eiri-kun said forlornly. "Unless he's decided to croak already."

I gave him a disapproving look. "That's not a very polite way to talk about your own father."

"Yeah, fortunately, I'm not a very polite person," he said. "Do you have a cigarette? You wrecked my last one earlier."

"I don't smoke," I told him. "Neither should you."

"Fuck that," was his immediate response.

He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes, relaxing. I could see clearly now that he _had_ had his ears pierced. The little silver hoop might have suited him, if he didn't look so run-down. He was so thin… "When was the last time you ate?" I asked him.

He shrugged, not opening his eyes. "I ate something at some point. Probably."

I wished there was something in the car I could have made him eat. As it was, looking at him was painful. "Have you been living on nicotine?"

"Yeah, more or less," he said flippantly. "What the hell do you care?"

"If I didn't care, I wouldn't be wasting the afternoon before a show in that dump," I snapped, my nerves frayed.

"No one asked you to get involved with my problems. I never asked you to play savior."

_You'll... stay with me, right? I feel so safe around you. Everything makes sense. So will you? Even though everything's so complicated?_

We were pulling up into the temple's drive by this point. "Stay out of trouble, Eiri-kun," I said, feeling weighed down and exhausted. "If you don't, I'll have to come after you. And I _will_ find you. Every. Single. Time."

_Even if it gets complicated, I'll stay. I'll be with you. Always._

He opened his eyes to look confusedly at me. "I'd almost think you actually gave a damn."

I closed my eyes against a fresh wave of pain, but opened them a moment later, knowing I couldn't afford to be weak right now. "Think whatever you like." I pulled an envelope containing a backstage pass out of my coat pocket and handed it to him. "Give this to your sister," I told him. "And stay out of trouble."

He opened the door and climbed out of the car. "Yeah, whatever, _Oniisan_." Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

He jogged up to the house, opened and shut the door. I watched the lit windows for a few moments before turning to the driver. "We have a show to do tonight." _Don't think about how much it hurts. Don't think about how much he's hurting both of you. Lock it away._ "K-san shoots people who are late."

"Yes, sir." The car squealed out of the drive.


	22. Hold On

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Nineteen: Hold On**

* * *

Author's notes: You know, I have yet to decide whether I want to use _Sleepless Beauty_ in the context of this story, but after this chapter I'm thinking it's probably going to make it in. I mean… look at the underlying theme and chapter title. It's the chorus of the song O.o; On that note, is it me, or does this story just get more and more deeply sexual? I can't seem to help it—sex seems to be an intrinsic part of Tohma's catharsis in this section. But I'm probably apologizing over nothing at all; you're loving this fanservice, aren't you? Besides, the flashback in this chapter…

Otherwise, thank you all for your reviews and your patience in letting me have a nice vacation with my family! I'm back in France now, and though I'm in the middle of finals, that's… probably not going to stop me. The third section of this story is wrapping up pretty soon, maybe one or two more chapters we move on to phase four! C'mon, don't tell me you're not looking forward to seeing Sakano :lol:

I wonder how many people are going to kill me for the ending of this (way too long) chapter…

Disclaimer: You know, considering how many people have told me they're starting to see this as the lost part of canon, I think maybe these characters own _me_. The Tohma in my head certainly doesn't act like _I'm_ in charge.

* * *

Despite the fairly strong sense of duty that had been instilled in me from birth, I seriously considered skipping the Kyoto show. An hour to curtain, I had never felt so unmotivated. My hands were still aching and had been on and off since Sapporo, my stylist's suggestion for my stage costume, considerably more revealing than anything they usually put me into, irritated me, and the idea of playing to a crowd of teenage fantasies made me feel miserable. Because I knew exactly what was wrong with me and because Ryuichi-san was watching me with wisely knowing eyes, I made myself smile and do the show anyway.

There probably weren't many people in the audience who caught the three mistakes I made in the first half, but Noriko-san certainly did. During intermission, her worried and bewildered gaze joined Ryuichi-san's.

I made two more mistakes in the second half; none of them had been glaring, but right about then, I certainly felt as though it would have been better to cancel after all. I knew I was lacking stage presence and charisma, because I had never seen either Ryuichi-san or Noriko-san perform quite as brilliantly as they did that night, covering for my lackluster presentation. When we came offstage, K-san grabbed my arm in the usual backstage commotion and told me calmly, "If you're going to give me halfway, I don't want you going up there. The fans deserve more than that from you."

Though I knew he was completely right, I didn't answer. I didn't really know what to say.

"That said, it was a stupid thing to do this at the show you invited your girl to," he added. "She's waiting to see you already. Your dressing room."

I nodded my thanks that he was letting me off so easily after my throwing the performance and headed back. There would be others with backstage passes, of course, but generally K-san had them kept out for a few minutes to let us get our bearings. It seemed he approved of Mika-san on some level, though he hadn't at the start, if he continued to bend his backstage rules to accommodate her.

The door to my dressing room was open, and when I headed in, I discovered both Noriko-san and Ryuichi-san had already installed themselves there. Noriko-san was chatting animatedly with Mika-san, outwardly without a care in the world. "I'll introduce you to the designer," she finished. "Yoshiaki's always glad to have a new model to work with, and he personalizes to perfection. You can hardly tell our clothing was made by the same person; he's got a very good sense of what suits." She looked up at me, smiled brightly, all traces of the worry on her face gone. On occasion she was a stellar actress; there was no way she wasn't dying to know what was wrong with me and go about fixing it. Ryuichi-san was in the corner, and I could sense the pain and worry in him, though anyone else probably wouldn't be able to. "Tohma-kun, you're late!"

Mika-san smiled at me a little too brightly, which was the only warning I had before she threw herself into my arms, hugging me tightly and burying her face in my shirt. I blinked, dumbfounded, as Noriko-san gathered up Ryuichi-san and Kumagoro. "We'll chat later," she said brightly. "You need to catch up."

"I'm sorry," Mika-san said guiltily, nonetheless keeping her grip on me.

"Oh please, don't be silly," Noriko-san waved her off. "Come on, Ryu-chan." She bustled him out of the room and shut the door.

For a few minutes, Mika-san held on to me as if I was the only thing anchoring her, like she had in New York, then she released me a little to smile up at me and I realized her eyes were overly bright and she was near tears. "Thank you," she said fervently.

I reached up to stroke her hair comfortingly, for a minute taken back to that time when we had had nothing but each other to lean on. "Don't worry about it," I told her.

"I can't help it," she said. "Not when you do something like this. How did you get him to come home and apologize?"

"Did he?" I said. "I wasn't sure he would. I'm glad. It was the least I could do."

"No, no it wasn't," she told me. Her smile was still a little watery as she looked up at me. I kept expecting her to cry. "I know you think you're doing penance… making up for what happened to him in New York. But whether or not he realizes it, you're the best thing he has going for him." She blinked a few times, fighting back tears. "I can't begin to tell you right now how grateful I am to you. It seems like you're the only thing left to hold on to."

"I'm not going to abandon you," I let myself say. "And I won't let him destroy himself the way he's trying to." Another promise to another person, but the same one, really. "You can keep holding on as long as you need to." As she stood there in my arms, my thoughts were dark.

_Yes, keep holding on to me. I'll let you, so hold on tighter and tighter. Hold on until I break from it._

* * *

That night I went to bed early, the moment we got back to the hotel. I felt heavy and tired and wanted nothing more than oblivion. The rain falling on the windows was soft and soothing to my ears, and I drifted off immediately. I felt the dream coming on, fought it halfheartedly, then let it take over as always, forgetting I was dreaming, transporting myself back.

At the end of February, it wasn't quite cold enough to snow in New York. Instead, a freezing rain fell upon the city, just heavy enough to make going outside miserable, but not enough to make the roads dangerous.

February twenty-second I kidnapped him out of school, smiling charmingly at the young female history teacher, whose lecture faltered as I walked directly into the classroom and asked for him to be excused to my care. He held his delighted grin back as he followed me into the empty third-period hallway, then let it bloom across his face, lighting up his eyes like sunshine. "What's going on? My birthday's _tomorrow_," he pointed out.

"But I'm kidnapping you _today_," I said blithely. "What, didn't you want to ditch school?"

He laughed, the sound echoing a little in the empty hallway. "Always my fondest dream."

It took him a few minutes after I pulled out of the parking lot, then he looked at me with slight confusion as I headed towards the interstate. "This isn't the way home."

"You're so observant," I said with a chuckle. "It continues to astound me."

He smacked my arm with no real heat behind the gesture. "You're insulting me," he complained.

"Oh, I wouldn't ever," I said with a straight face. "Now you're just being silly."

We made our way out of the city, driving north until we were alone on the deserted stretch of highway. The rain had faded out, though the clouds still hung low and gray. Interpreting his slightly hopeful look correctly, I pulled over to the side of the road and switched places with him, letting him drive.

I had been teaching him because he told me he wanted to learn, and gained the same pleasure I did from flying down an empty road. It wasn't entirely legal, but when I had thought of using that excuse not to let him, I had only to imagine eyes full of sarcasm and a statement effectively pointing out that I didn't much concern myself with legality. So I let him, figuring it was all right until we got caught. As with other things in my life, I didn't want to think about crossing that bridge until it was in front of me.

We ended up in some tiny town on the coast, eating amazing seafood in a restaurant with only four tables and a single waitress who doubled as cook, then walking off overfull stomachs on the shore of the winter sea, steely gray and a little mean, but beautiful because of its wildness. The wind was stiff, trying to tear away jackets and hats, and he walked pressed into my side, his arm tight around my waist and his hand tucked into my coat pocket for warmth. We went back to the car only when the low-hanging clouds opened again to let forth snow.

Because the snow showed no sign of stopping and because I had had no real plans for this trip other than getting out of the city, we spent the night in the single bed and breakfast the town contained, tiny just like the restaurant but boasting huge bay windows in the living room that doubled as a reception area. The girl behind the counter, barely past high-school age, apologized over and over about only one single room being available, all the while shooting me glances that clearly stated that she wouldn't mind sharing _hers_ in the least. It took nearly half an hour to get our key and get free of her, smiling politely and trying not to acknowledge her flirtations, and Eiri-kun was frowning slightly as he shut the door behind us. I almost thought of apologizing, though there was nothing really to apologize for, when he tackled me, using the power of surprise to knock me flat and make the lamp on the bedside table my head had barely missed rattle. He gave me a hard kiss, followed by just as hard a bite on the base of my neck. "Mine," he nearly growled.

And I couldn't help laughing because of how marvelous this all was, sprawling on the floor and deliriously happy to be marked as his even if it was ridiculous to feel that way. He cut off my laughter with another kiss, this one going deep and dark and a little dangerous, and by the time we broke apart for breath I was no longer entirely sure of who or where we were.

"I have this sudden vindictive desire to be really loud," he said breathlessly, his eyes dark and promising from where I had flipped him over to pin him to the floor.

"Really bad idea," I told him.

"Yeah, I know. Damn it."

So we were quiet like we had learned to be, swallowing gasps and sighs and whimpers, and by the time we crawled into bed it was dark and quiet in the small house, made more so by the dampening blanket of snow that continued to fall outside the windows. It was too dark to see the small alarm clock by the bed, but it didn't really matter what it read. Time was fluid at that time, in that place.

He snuggled into my side and I felt him already sinking into sleep. He nuzzled at my neck, the same spot he had bruised earlier, and murmured, "Time slows down when it's snowing, and the world gets smaller. There's nothing except you."

"That sounds like something out of a book."

"It might be, someday." Holding on to me, he fell asleep.

* * *

I awoke to the bedside clock reading a blurry three-forty in the morning through the tears at the edges of my eyes. My body was tense and aching for something I knew I couldn't have as I sat up, shaking off the last vestiges of the dream, and looked blankly at the window. The pane was still being splattered with late winter rain. I felt just a little closer to breaking than I had earlier that evening, so I stood and dressed, and after a moment of self-loathing went out of my room and across the silent hotel hallway.

It was more difficult than I had imagined to knock on Ryuichi-san's door, to see his face, completely miserable, as he opened it. It seemed much more than a week since Sapporo. There was a towel around his neck and he was shirtless. The television was murmuring softly in the background and the bed was made—clearly he hadn't been sleeping. His hair was wet, and his eyes were adult and hurting. After a moment of silence, he reached out a hand, smoothed it over my cheek, and smiled. It seemed to take a moment of effort for the pain on his face to vanish.

"I'm so-" I started to apologize, but he put a hand on my lips, effectively stemming the statement before it was complete.

"Don't worry about it," he said, smiling, his eyes wiser than most ever gave him credit for. "Come in."

He pulled me in by my beltloops, shutting and locking the door behind me and stood on his toes to kiss me lightly, a whisper against my lips that had very little of the sexual in it, but served somehow to comfort. "I really-" I started again, but he only shook his head, once again cutting off what I was saying.

"Don't," he told me. "It's all right. I understand, really." And by his eyes, it seemed he did. "I'm so happy you came." And I believed him, though he didn't look it. He drew me towards him, letting my face settle in his hair, damp and smelling of shampoo. His hands danced over my back, then settled around my waist. "I should be the one apologizing," he murmured unintelligibly, his face pressed against my neck. "I told you to hold on to me. It shouldn't hurt so much when you only do what I ask you to." He kissed the spot his breath tickled, then a little higher on my neck, the spot that had been bruised in the dream of what seemed to be another life. Light kisses continued, landing soft as raindrops up the line of my jaw, lingering just under my right ear. "Don't say anything," he whispered to me, anticipating that I was about to speak. "Please. Just let me."

Because it was easier and less painful than arguing with him, and because he so rarely made requests of me, I closed my eyes and did.

* * *

That was the first time he fell asleep immediately, after. I was the one left awake as he slept exhaustedly next to me, his weight familiar curled against me and his hand holding on to mine even in sleep, fingers loosely laced together. He had never fallen asleep like that before, curled into the curve of my body, head resting on my chest; generally Ryuichi-san sprawled over his side of the bed and mine for good measure. It was Eiri-kun who had always slept like this, as if he couldn't be quite close enough to me, even in sleep. It felt somehow like some sort of barrier had been broken between us, that he allowed himself to lose consciousness in this position, looking young and vulnerable.

So I let my free hand rest on the small of his back as he slept, breathing deeply and evenly against my chest, and tried to shut off my brain.

_They can keep holding on to me, and I won't break. I won't break, because I'm holding on to you._

_But what are you holding on to?_

I wanted to ask him but knew I wouldn't dare. I felt inexplicably sad as I drifted off into sleep after him.

* * *

Everything was the same, yet just a little different after that. I wasn't sure if I liked the change, though I couldn't quite put my finger on that which had changed. In any case, Ryuichi-san seemed, on the surface at least, to be more content than he had been before. I caught myself thinking sometimes that it was an act, that he was actually indescribably miserable. These thoughts came from nowhere, because he never gave me cause to believe something of that nature. He was bright, energetic and affectionate, just as he had always been. Nothing about him signaled the breakdown I felt unreasonably must be close at hand.

Somehow, it never came.

Almost a year passed this way. I got through the summer on strength of will alone. Once the heat began to fade a little and the days began shortening, it was a little easier going with every day. By the time the autumn rains began to fall, I had once again settled into a pattern of existence that was repetitive, saved from monotony only by Noriko-san and Ryuichi-san's spontaneity and penchant for trouble. Saki-chan had begun babbling in nonsensical baby-talk, and Noriko-san brought her by the studio sometimes now when her nanny had a day off. The little girl very quickly became the office darling; even K-san wasn't immune to her big-eyed charm. In fact, he was remarkably good with her.

"My wife and I have a son about her age," he told us once by way of explanation, bouncing the little girl, who was shrieking with giggles and trying to work the gun on his belt free of its holster.

We all had to blink at that; I hadn't even known he was married.

Mika-san and I stayed in touch. We generally talked on the phone at least once a week, though I hadn't seen her since February's Kyoto show. On occasion she would give me news of Eiri-kun, most of it not positive. None of it seemed quite bad enough for me to make good on my threat to go and knock sense into him, only just bad enough for Mika-san to need my metaphorical shoulder to cry on. So I continued to hurt and let her take her pain and frustration out on me, and then Ryuichi-san pulled it out of me and I felt almost human until the next time she called with word of some new escapade that it was difficult to equate with the sweet, playful boy I had known.

He was going to school, but seemed to have no desire whatsoever to continue on to college, nor to learn his father's trade. He stayed out of trouble for the most part, but he came home with his clothes and breath smelling of cigarettes more often than not. He went to therapy because Mika-san made him, but was surly and rude to the psychiatrist (something I didn't blame him for in the least, though I never told Mika-san so). He took the medicine he prescribed but it didn't seem to help his dark moods and frequent silences. He wrote alone in his room at night, but he snarled at anyone who approached him and wouldn't let anyone see what he was working on. He had stopped fighting with his classmates, but instead was making the rounds of all the girls in his school, carelessly dropping them after a few days, sometimes a week if the girl was lucky.

It was this last trend in his behavior that I found particularly worrying, and the roundabout reason for my eventual return to Kyoto, a place I was beginning to hate as much as I longed for it. Mika-san called me in tears one afternoon in late September, and by the time I had her coherent and had pulled the entire story out of her, I was already halfway out the door. Apparently, he had come home bloodied and bruised after an altercation with someone over something he wasn't willing to disclose. When Mika-san had pried him for details, he had slammed out of the house, holding on to his side as though his ribs pained him.

So, because she asked me to and because I had made promises I had never expected to be keeping in this way, I left Ryuichi-san a voicemail postponing the tentative dinner plans we had made and headed for the airport.

Once in Kyoto, I didn't even bother going to the temple, choosing instead to make a circuit of the neighborhood just around, assuming correctly that hurt as he was, he wouldn't have gone very far to lick his wounds. A few questions asked were enough; not many injured blond teens would be wandering around. My efforts paid off late into the night when I finally located him in the corner of a bar he had no right being in. The bartender didn't seem to care, but then again, with the way he had shot up in the past several months, Eiri-kun didn't really look underage. That aside, with the way he looked that night in particular it wasn't too surprising that no one bothered to look too closely. He had washed off the blood and most of the injuries I assumed he had were masked by the dim light, but he had a large bruise on his cheek and a swollen lip, and looked more than a little mean and ready to pick up the fight with the next person to challenge him. So I didn't say anything about the low-quality beer he was nursing, ordering a martini and slipping onto the bench on the other side of his booth. There was surprise in his eyes before he schooled his face to impassivity. "You," he said flatly.

"Yes, I just keep coming back. I must just enjoy your company that much." I spoke lightly, nonchalantly, but I was hungrily drinking in his presence, little details about him. The way he slouched was new, speaking of height gained quickly and someone who was unaccustomed to being tall. He would tower over me a great deal now if he stood. It had been months since we had seen each other, and again it seemed he had changed. He wasn't as starved-looking as he had been the last time, but his eyes were more narrow and cold than ever. He had had a haircut recently, probably at his family's insistence and the too-neat crop didn't suit him at all; the slightly long, untended look had always looked best on him. He still had the earring, though, and he was still more beautiful than I knew what to do with.

"I figured you'd be along eventually," he said, downing the rest of his beer and grimacing. The undertones of that were clearly that he wished he knew a good way to get rid of me.

"Smart," I told him. "What did you do to yourself?" I adopted the tone of the frustrated parent or sibling because it was easiest.

"You're supposed to be the genius," he said with a bitter little smirk. "Got thrashed, obviously."

I sighed. "Eiri-kun, _that_ was obvious the moment I walked in here. Why?"

"Damn female," was his only response. He pulled a cigarette and lighter out of his pocket; I was so distracted I let him.

"You fought with a _girl?_" I asked incredulously.

"Of course not," he sneered. "Chiharu just had a bit of a memory lapse." He smiled sourly. "We know all about that, don't we? Threw herself at me, pulled me into bed of entirely her own volition, then decided she wasn't so fond of the idea of me moving on. I mean, fun's fun, but I never promised to keep her around. Shit." He rubbed at his side absently; I remembered Mika-san's theory about the hurt ribs. "Suddenly, her three giants of brothers are after me for being a rapist. Kind of like being a kid again, actually, three against one. Then, I come home, and Mika's being a hysterical cow as always, and Tatsuha's looking at me with huge owl eyes and saying he hopes I mutilated the other guy. So I left, because I didn't," he finished, taking a drag of his cigarette and letting out a cloud of smoke, hiding his features for a moment. "Hit back, I mean."

He reached for my glass and sipped at what was left. At this point, I let him. "What?" I asked. I couldn't imagine him putting up no sort of fight at all.

He shrugged. "I figure, if I can kill a couple of guys for trying to rape me, the least I can do is let those three knock me around a little if they think I did the same thing to their kid sister. Be kind of hypocritical if I didn't, wouldn't it?" He took another drag; I watched his face through the smoke, and marveled at how far away he seemed. "Never mind that she came herself and asked for it. Apparently, so did I, so," he shrugged, "you know, all that karma shit. Good for the old man's business, and all it cost me is a couple of ribs and a split lip."

Before he had quite finished this horrible statement, considerably before I had realized what I was doing, I was on my feet, my hands gripping his arms and pulling him up from the other side of the table. I didn't even notice the look of pain on his face as I did so; I was half blind with a million thoughts and feelings, the most paramount of which were rage, guilt and some sort of blind hope that I somehow hadn't managed to quash yet. "What do you remember?" I asked him, trying to keep my shaking voice low, failing when I saw a flicker in his eyes that was almost recognition, almost the old Eiri. "Damn it, _what?_" I knew I was practically shouting and didn't care. When he didn't answer me quickly enough, I pulled him closer and shook him slightly, the part of my mind detached from this marveling at the fact that I was capable of physical violence at all. I was holding on to him as tightly as I was holding on to those last threads of hope.

The strange look in his eyes was back for a moment, pain layered over confusion. "Nothing," he finally said, pulling his eyes away from mine. "Not enough. Words, phrases, faces. Yuki-sensei, mostly." He looked back at me then, and all traces of the old Eiri-kun were gone, leaving only the new one. "That not what you wanted to hear? Are you going to fill me in?" Before I could even process what to answer, he shook his head, looking clearly terrified. "Never mind. I don't care, all right? Are you going to let me go? You're hurting me."

Dazed, I let go of him, still feeling the urge to somehow shake the memories out him, to remove this new unfamiliar creature by force and bring back _my_ Eiri-kun. "It wasn't your fault," I said softly, making myself look at him however much it hurt. "I'm going to have to tell you at least that much, no matter what you don't want to hear. Not your fault, Eiri-kun. _My_ fault. _All my fault._ How could you be stupid enough to blame yourself?"

I felt tears close at hand. I knew he saw them, because he seemed on the verge of reaching out to me, so close I almost held my breath, but then he slammed down a wall of indifference. "Whatever. People are staring. Aren't you supposed to be famous or something?"

At this point, that was the farthest thing from my mind. "I don't care." My biggest and only fear was breaking down while he was still there to see. I didn't think I'd be able to survive it.

He gave me a disgusted look. "You're here to take me home, right? Let's go, but if Mika or anyone else gets on my case, I'll tell you all to go get fucked. Got it?"

"Fine." I followed him out, willing myself to just hold on a few hours more, only until I could get back to Tokyo and lose myself in Ryuichi-san's arms for a little while, because he was the only one allowed to see me break down, and the only one with any hope of putting me right again.

* * *

I was only lucky that the next day was Sunday, and we could sleep late; I had shown up at the door of Ryuichi-san's apartment at a quarter to five in the morning, and couldn't be grateful enough that he roused himself enough to let me in without saying a single reproachful word. We slept through the morning and lazed through the afternoon, eating the sushi he had ordered in, him and Kumagoro watching some sort of anime full of explosions on television, me reading absently from one of the books I had begun leaving at his apartment for days such as this.

We didn't need to be in the studio until the evening, and when we got there I felt refreshed and ready to work, only to discover K-san was nowhere to be seen. Noriko-san was sitting at the computer in the practice room calmly playing solitaire instead of doing any actual work. She hit a dead end, stuck her tongue out at the computer, and quit the program as we walked in. "Hey guys," she said. "You know what the plan is for today?"

"I have no idea," I told her, settling on the piano bench and experimentally playing a few chords.

"Well, if you have no idea…" She shrugged, opened her game again and recommenced sorting computerized cards. Ryuichi-san settled on the floor near the piano bench, putting Kumagoro away on his head and pulling a little notebook out of his jacket pocket to doodle on. It seemed our lazy afternoon was stretching into a lazy evening.

"We should probably try to do _something_," I said with no real energy. My hands wandered over the piano keys almost unconsciously, playing scales, arpeggios, background noise to warm up my fingers.

"Like what?" she said.

"I wonder where K is?" Ryuichi-san mused from the floor. His drawing looked a little like one of the monsters that had been exploding in this afternoon's anime. "He's never late. He shoots people who are late."

"Probably just held up in traffic," Noriko-san said without looking away from her computer. "Damn it, _where_ is the ace of hearts?"

Neither of us had a chance to answer this all-important question as the door slammed open and K-san appeared on the threshold. I had never seen him look more angry; it was actually terrifying. He had some sort of papers clutched in his fist. He looked around the room with barely suppressed rage. "You and you out," he said, pointing at Noriko-san and Ryuichi-san. His eyes fixed on me. "You stay."

I looked up at him in utter confusion as Noriko-san nearly fled the room, pulling Ryuichi-san by his shirt cuff. "What's going on?" I asked slowly.

"Hopefully, you can tell me that," he said, throwing the papers at me. I caught them reflexively. "These are pre-prints of tomorrows papers, and don't think I didn't have to bleed just to get _this_ much warning."

Under his burning gaze, it was actually difficult to get the papers straightened well enough to be able to see what was on the pages. Then it was no longer K-san I was worried about, as the photographs and headlines jumped out at me to my unending horror. Photographs I had not noticed being taken, myself, hands tight on Eiri-kun's arms, a mere breath away from him. The look of undisguised hope and wanting on my face that I was sure anyone could interpret, and fear and near-panic on his, a face that was easily recognizable as his despite the dim lighting and the swelling on his lip. Some enterprising soul had clearly gone to the trouble of finding out his identity, and his name was there, thrown across the top of the page with mine, and other photos of him, in school uniform, looking impossibly young, and speculations, not all of them false…

I felt myself gripping onto the piano with a discordant clash of notes, because if I didn't hold on, the world was going to turn over and this utter nightmare would be real.

"Right now would be the time to start explaining." I heard K-san's voice as if from far away. "And I'm really, really hoping it's good."


	23. Two Lies and a Truth

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Twenty: Two Lies and a Truth**

* * *

Author's notes: That was… such hell… to write. This chapter is so, so emotionally not good for me. It hurts. So badly. Ouch. Even the sheer WTF?-ness of Ryuichi _cursing_ cannot numb the pain. Ow. Shit, this is going to be so hard to do for a while… maybe I will alternate this with the Yami fic after all. At least that one is happy…

I have hired K to protect me from the angry rabid T/R fans after this chapter. Just… so you know.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation. Oh, but apparently I'm a sadist.

* * *

I have always been a good problem solver. I suppose that comes from the logical bend of my mind—find the problem, take it apart, put it back together so that it makes sense, produce a solution. It was a process I had been through hundreds of times, and it had never failed me.

When I looked at the newspapers K-san had shoved at me, for a moment I had no idea whatsoever how to go about solving this one. I must have gaped blindly as I tried to resist the gravitational pull that was pulling me inexorably towards the floor. Somehow, after the first few moments of horrified silence, my mind started coming back together and I was able to settle myself onto the piano bench instead of falling into a graceless heap, let go of the piano and even meet K-san's eyes. His regard was speculative and angry.

"This is ugly," I said.

"That's a mild word," he responded.

"I didn't notice anyone photographing us." Though at the time there had been very little I was noticing, and since I had spent the evening wandering around and even talking to people in the street, it wasn't a huge surprise that someone would have known me.

"I should hope not. I never said you're stupid." He picked up the newspaper, looked like he wanted to use it for target practice, and threw it disgustedly on the floor. "Not usually stupid," he amended.

"I suppose I deserve that." My brain was working feverishly, taking this problem to its most basic level and searching for a way, any way, to put things right. "If we let the papers print like that, I'm going to ruin our career, aren't I?"

"Most likely. I'm going to ask you one more time, Seguchi: _what is going on with you and this family?_ I haven't pried into your personal life out of respect but it's a little too late to play hide and seek with me. We don't have time for children's games."

"Of course not. We have to counterattack." And suddenly, just like that, the solution fell into place.

I smiled and began to lie.

* * *

I continued lying, for an eternity it seemed, leaving just enough truth in my words to keep everything credible.

"I can't believe how poised you are," Mika-san told me, sitting back exhaustedly in the limo across from me. She had been quick to respond to my desperate call the day before, and was already in Tokyo late that night. In the twenty-four hours since, I had unashamedly thrust her into the spotlight in front of me, and though she was unused to it and shaky, she was bearing up under the burden. "You never stop smiling. When we walked in there, it seemed like they wanted to tear you to pieces."

"They did," K-san told her, lounging on the seat next to me.

"If you go in knowing that, it's a little easier," I told her.

"If you go in wanting to tear _them_ to pieces it's easiest," K-san suggested.

"Try not to kill anyone important," I sighed. I sipped at the cup of espresso I had immediately gotten from the small limo bar and tried to relax now that the last of the interviews were done.

When I had called Mika-san and told her she was scheduled for the next flight into Tokyo, she hadn't argued with me. "Get them to hold the article one day," I had told K-san as I went out to meet her.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" he had asked, though with considerably less fury than earlier.

"Find a way," I said. "You're resourceful. I'll call you to say what time I'll be in tomorrow."

"Fine." Having that answer I slammed out, never doubting he would do what I had asked, not stopping to question when I had started ordering him and not the other way around.

When she came in, I told her, "Life's going to be hell for a few days. Just so you're aware." I sighed. "We have to save Eiri-kun." He was the first thing on my mind, even before saving my reputation and the life of the band. "It's going to be ugly, probably, but we have to do it anyway."

I loved her for nodding grimly and saying, "It doesn't matter if it's ugly."

I left my curtains drawn back that morning, something I never did. Though generally I felt safe enough in a high-rise, I knew the media hounds were out for my blood. They would notice.

They did, of course. The first call requesting an interview and demanding the identity of the mystery brunette came in to K-san when the office was just barely open. I ignored it, and the others that followed as we made sure to be seen, and often, over the course of the day. "Get me a conference room for tonight," I told K-san darkly that afternoon. "The vultures are circling."

They flocked in, hungry for gossip and scandal, and I met them with a disarming smile, opening the conference by presenting Mika-san, in a neat business suit at my side, as my charming fiancée.

That actually managed to strike them speechless for a few moments—K-san really had been thorough in keeping her out of the media—and then the hands began to wave and the questions began to fly. I had only waved my hands at them, waiting for them to settle down before I spoke.

"Unfortunately, it seems my personal life is no longer personal since so many people know my name." I smiled sadly. "I suppose I can understand the public wanting the details of my life, and generally I let the media have their way. After all, you're only doing your jobs, like I am.

"But when it isn't just my privacy that is breached, I must admit I am more than a little upset, especially when I discover the media is set to print lies, filthy ones, just to sell a few papers. I don't mind you doing your jobs, but your job is telling the truth, isn't it?"

"Seguchi-san, isn't it true that you-"

"We have it on excellent sources that when Nittle Grasper was on hiatus you-"

"At that time Uesugi Eiri also-"

I waved a hand again, never stopping smiling. "Please. It seems I've raised a great deal of confusion. Although I prefer to keep my private life private, it seems I will have to disclose a few details. For the sake of truth, if nothing else.

"Yes, I have been acquainted with Uesugi Eiri, and for many years, ever since he was still a small child. I will not deny that the photographs you have are legitimate, either, and the story isn't a pretty one, though it isn't any of the versions you imagined that paint me as a monster."

I leaned forward, casually touching Mika-san's hand, almost as if I did it unconsciously. I knew that would be seen and noted too, though. "As a matter of fact, I had wanted to wait before presenting Mika-san to the public. She's so lovely I realize I will have a hard time keeping her to myself, but it seems my little secret is out. Uesugi Mika," I said, smiling up at her. "Our families are old friends. Mika-san and I have been engaged to be married for almost ten years, since before the formation of Nittle Grasper. Initially the wedding date was set immediately after her graduation from high school, but when our songs first started becoming popular, I was encouraged by Mika-san's father to postpone the wedding. He didn't want his daughter exposed to the media, assuming correctly that she would lose any hope at privacy. Though neither of us were happy about his decision, we agreed. Fortunately, we had been planning to marry soon, in any case, so this isn't as badly timed as it could be."

I let my hand rest on hers again, as if calming her. "Eiri-san is… very much like a younger brother to me," I said, lacing my voice with sympathy. "He is a charming child who is, to my regret, of fragile health and bitterly unhappy. When I was given a production post in New York, it is true that he came along with me, although the time of the band's necessary hiatus, which had not been initiated by me, only happened to coincide with his semester abroad. The Uesugi family was reassured to know he would have a brother looking after him, because Mika-san was unable to accompany him and his father worried for his health."

Mika-san smiled lightly at me and nodded as I continued. "This week I was dealing with a nasty bit of family business in Kyoto. I'm sure Eiri-san is not the first teenager to rebel, get into fights and experiment with drinking, but I was certainly angry with him this weekend, when I came to Kyoto to visit the Uesugi family and had to go out and find him in the middle of the night because Uesugi-san is not as young as he once was and I was loath to let Mika-san go out alone at night." I sighed. "I do not like exposing my family's faults like this to the public," I complained. "I don't believe it should be necessary to expose Eiri-san to the media this way when he is still a child and his emotional state is so delicate. I would like him to have a good life, and that is one of the reasons I was so quick to be angry at him for his bad judgment, and the reason I became so angry with the press for twisting something they saw without consulting with me."

The lies and truth mixed together and slipped easily off of my tongue. "Here are the truths you are looking for. I did not put the bruises on Eiri-san's face, though I do admit I lost my temper when I saw how badly he was hurt. I certainly have no feelings for him outside of a strong brotherly affection. I do not have, and have never had, any relationship outside of this one with him, and it disgusts and frustrates me that you would assume such a thing of me. I do not believe I have ever given the media any reason to hate me, yet it seems you are willing to think the worst of me without any proof whatsoever. I love my fiancée, who is an intelligent, mature and lovely woman. Eiri-san is a child, a child I would like to protect from himself and those around him. I watched him grow up, and sometimes it is difficult to remember he is not actually my brother. I can only pray that the media will respect that and leave him alone from now on." Whether I told the truth or I lied, the open, smiling expression on my face never changed. Several of the reporters in front of me had the decency to look properly chastised.

"You'll understand, I hope, that it is very difficult to see someone close to you suffer. I can only hope you can forgive me for trying to be a good brother as well as a good musician, as well as for keeping my engagement a secret, for which I do apologize most profoundly to all of my fans. I hope you can see why I would do what I did, however." I took Mika-san's hand in mine and gifted her with a smile I knew came off just short of adoring. "Surely, surely, you can understand loving someone enough to keep them to yourself." _And to lie through your teeth to keep them safe._ "If you have anything else you would like me to clear up, I will be glad to hear it," I finished.

Then the questions came pouring in, but they were different from the earlier ones, and the journalists were smiling at us. Some of the sillier females looked a little teary.

I answered the questions about the date of the wedding—in a little under a year (and it would be hell to arrange with even that much notice considering my career, but we had no choice whatsoever)—readily enough, and urged Mika-san to answer the questions that were posed to her. She was charming and regal—perfect. The one journalist who dared voice a question about Eiri-kun's supposed bad health received such a tragic look from her that she shut her mouth on a squeak, and no one else dared to ask. A few wanted to know if Ryuichi-san, too, had a fiancée secreted away somewhere, to which I laughed jovially and told them they would have to pose the question to him personally, as it was not my place to discuss his personal life. The rest of the questions were in the same vein, cheerful demands to disclose more of my personal secrets mixed with congratulations for Mika-san and all the best wishes for our upcoming marriage. By the time K-san escorted us out to the limousine, all of the reporters were smiling. We smiled back until the moment the limo doors closed behind us and we were protected by tinted glass, then collapsed into the seats opposite each other.

That was when she commented on my poise, which was slipping now that there was no one to impress. K-san didn't really count—I realized he knew at least part of what I had fed the media had been an outright lie, but he didn't say anything about it. "You will be on the covers of _everything_ tomorrow morning, Mika-san," he said instead. "You have no personal life anymore."

"That's all right," she said bravely, not at all aware of what this meant yet. "It would have come someday."

"Your family, too," I said sadly. "I asked them to keep them out of it, but they won't." I could only hope Eiri-kun was intelligent enough not to tell them to fuck off if they came sniffing around him. If he only had enough self-control to ignore them… "You will need to call home and have your father keep both of the boys from going to school for a few days until this dies down." I planned to keep her here with me and largely in the public view for as long as it took for the story to be replaced with something new.

"I will," she said. "I suppose we have to go out to dinner and smile at a great deal of people tonight?"

"Unfortunately," I grimaced. "We had a dress picked up for you by someone in wardrobe." Just like the suit she wore that day had been, and whatever other clothing items had been sent ahead to my apartment for her. She would need to go on a shopping spree once I told her how long she would have to stay. It would probably be a long time.

"I can hardly complain then," she said. She looked at me and smiled. There was genuine gratefulness on her face. "Thank you."

"I wouldn't thank him," K-san said. "This isn't half as entertaining as it seems, at first."

But I knew what she was thanking me for. "You're welcome." _After all, I love him too._

* * *

It was very late when we got home that night. It was a relief to get behind the guarded doors of my building and away from the media, who had never been far from us at any point in the evening. "Do they always hunt you like that?" Mika-san asked in the elevator, examining her reflection in the mirrored walls critically and tucking a lock of long hair behind her ear.

"Nearly. It isn't usually this bad. I expect it will be, though, for a while," I told her. I wondered if I should apologize, but there had been no choice but to feed her to the media dogs. _Better her than him._ "It should die down in a few weeks. They have short attention spans, and something else always comes along."

"Am I staying here for a few weeks then?" she asked, smiling brightly.

"I hope your father doesn't mind it."

"I can handle my father." She strode out of the elevator, confident in the painfully high heels the wardrobe department had provided for her. "I haven't been here in a while. Thanks for having me."

I followed silently behind her to open the door. There was a light on behind the kitchen door. When we walked in, the door opened and Ryuichi-san barreled out of there like an energetic cannonball. "Tohma, you're home! I thought you'd never get here; I even ate without you. I tried calling but your phone was off…" To my utter horror, he had glomped onto me, chattering all the while, and only noticed Mika-san's presence when he looked up to behold her watching him with both eyebrows raised and her jaw hanging half-open. "Oh. Hi."

"What…" Mika-san trailed off. Clearly, she hadn't expected anyone in my apartment. To be frank, I hadn't either; I had thought he would know better.

"Ryuichi-san," I said stupidly, unable to come up with a better response than that.

"Yes?" he said, not letting go for an instant, as she found her voice to reply, "Yes, I know who he _is_, thank you."

"Please let go of me, Ryuichi-san," I said, trying not to show my growing discomfort. _This apartment is enormous, why are we all crammed into the entrance hall like this? I can't breathe._

He did, looking mildly hurt. He smiled uncertainly at Mika-san. "Are you going to stay here for a while?"

"I'm going to live here," she said, answering him smile for smile, though there was nothing hesitant about hers, rather something predatory. "For longer than a while."

"Oh." He stepped away from me as much as he could considering the narrow nature of the hall.

"I hope I'm not intruding," she said, still smiling. "Tohma invited me."

I wanted to tell her to shut up when I saw the hurt, quickly hidden, in Ryuichi-san's eyes. "Of course not. I don't live here. Kumagoro and I just came to visit." He glanced at me for a moment with a look that seemed full of censure.

"I'm sorry, but we're both very tired," Mika-san said politely. "Perhaps you and Kumagoro could come back some other time."

I watched, horrified as Ryuichi-san drew himself up, looking _furious_ for a moment, something I had never seen from him, before settling back into his childish demeanor, suddenly. "Of course. Let me go get him; he's finishing his tea." He disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared a few moments later with the rabbit. "Excuse us." He smiled up at me as he opened the door. "I'll see you at work, Tohma. Good night."

He closed the door to leave silence. Mika-san's eyes were cool and blue as she regarded me over the hat I had taken off and was holding in front of me like some sort of flimsy shield. "I doubt you have security problems, so I suppose he has a key?"

"He wasn't supposed to be here tonight," I said, wondering whether I was justifying myself or him. "I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter. Better him than some, I suppose. At least he won't sell you to the media and flush all your pretty words down the drain." She swept past me in a haze of expensive perfume and long, loose hair. "I know how far your loyalty to me extends. I'm not deluding myself. If you would be so kind though, could you try to refrain from parading your infidelity in front of me? It leaves an unpleasant taste in my mouth."

* * *

It appeared I was once again the media darling. When I woke the next morning, the sheaf of newspapers that had been delivered to my door had nothing but praise for me. Not only had I come out with a squeaky-clean reputation, but I seemed to have _gained_ popularity, if anything. Only one paper had printed as had been previewed—one of the cheaper tabloids that was known for shaky sources and uncertain witnesses. I could almost find humor in the irony of the fact that it was the only paper with the truth. I knew no one would pay attention to it.

I left Mika-san sleeping in my bed where she had silently retreated to the night before. I had spent the night in the living room, playing with the synthesizer on silent mode and finally falling into exhausted sleep on the couch for a few hours. I only went into my bedroom to pick up clothing for the day. It gave me a strange feeling to see her asleep in my bed, her hair spread like a blanket under her, breathing with her lips parted. She was beautiful, with the same high cheekbones and facial line as Eiri-kun but softened, more feminine. After watching her for a few moments, I turned away to my closet to dig out a fresh shirt. I would have plenty of time to get used to her sleeping in my bed.

_The rest of my life. Time enough to get used to anything._

We worked on new songs that day, fitting melodies and words together. Ryuichi-san seemed off, though; nothing was coming out that we would want to keep, and eventually K-san called our lunch break an hour early, telling him to get some sugar or caffeine or _something_ to put him back on track. "Come with me, Tohma," the singer demanded immediately.

Noriko-san shot a glance at him and said, "I'll stay here; I'm not hungry," so I followed him out by myself.

"Are you all right?" I finally dared to ask when we hit the candy machines in the deserted lunch room.

"Shouldn't I be?" he said instead of answering, studying the selection critically. "Strawberry pocky or chocolate?"

"Strawberry," I said. "You're not all right."

He pushed the buttons to select it. "If you know, why ask?"

"Because…" _Why, indeed?_ "Because."

"I watched your press conference, you know," he told me, leaning over to retrieve the box, not looking into my eyes. "I wasn't going to come over, but then I thought, 'No, that's his media face, he hasn't told _me_ anything is changing.'" He opened the box but didn't rip into the candy. "Maybe I wanted to see what you would do." He leaned into the corner made by the wall and the candy machine, his eyes down on the floor.

"Ryuichi-san…" I wanted to tread carefully, but didn't know how to. "It's a lot more complicated than you think it is."

"I know exactly how it is," he told me, shaking his head. "You're the one who doesn't."

"Ryuichi-san, she's my fiancée. We've been engaged for years. Since before I met you."

"I know. But it's an arranged marriage, a publicity marriage. It wasn't supposed to mean anything, was it?" He looked up at me then, and I realized there were tears at the corners of his eyes. "I know you aren't in love with her."

"No, I'm not," I said heavily, thinking of how beautiful she was, sleeping, and how little that had moved me.

"You're engaged to her," he continued, and his voice was low, almost a hiss, a contrast to the desperation in his eyes. "But _I'm_ the one who holds you, _I'm_ the one who dries your tears, _I'm_ the one who keeps you sane, _I'm_ the one you're kissing, _I'm_ the one you're fucking, damn it all!" I knew my mouth was hanging open in blind shock; I had never heard anything remotely like this from him. It didn't sound right coming out in his voice—like some twisted alternate reality. "It's _me_, Tohma, I'm right _here_, will you start waking up to that fact, please?" The tears began to fall, and there was power in how pathetic and broken down he looked, suddenly. "Why, why, no matter what I do, will you not open up enough to let yourself love me?"

I couldn't think straight. "But you…"

"I know I never told you to," he said, finishing my unfinished sentence disgustedly for me. "I don't want to have to tell you to do it; I want you to realize you want to all by yourself. I don't want your pity or your guilt, I just want you to _love_ me even half, a quarter, a hundredth as much as I love you. Why? _Why?_ I've been waiting patiently and it's been almost two years and I know you don't love her. Why won't you love _me?_"

He reached up, took my face in his hands, and I was trapped by his desperate blue eyes. "Tell me," he said heavily. "The truth, Tohma. Please."

"Ryuichi-san… I do love you but…" _I'm still too in love myself to love anyone else._

"But you aren't in love with me," he finished, pulling his eyes away, letting the tears fall to the floor now and releasing my face to hug himself around the chest. He looked utterly defeated—just how I felt.

And I gave him the truth. "No."

"I see. Is there anything at all I can do to change that?"

"I don't know."

"All right." I reached out a hand to him, but he stopped it with his before I could touch his shoulder. For a moment, I let him hold my wrist, then I let my hand drop back to my side as understanding came. "I can't do this right now," he said quietly. "It's my own fault. Tell K I'm taking the afternoon off."

"Ryuichi-san-"

"Tell him. I'm not going back in either case."

"All right." I moved aside so he could walk out of his corner without brushing past me, and watched him walk away until he disappeared in the elevator. Then I turned and headed back to the studio.


	24. Coming Unglued

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Twenty-One: Coming Unglued**

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Author's notes: I find I have a million things to say to the readers and I'm going to shamelessly abuse of my right to author's notes! I can't believe I've gotten all the way here! THANK YOU ALL! I'm sure I would have abandoned this monster long ago if you weren't all supporting me… but I will bring it to completion despite myself! I promise! In any case, this chapter is the end of part three!

I've had more than a few offers of fanart and I thank you for that as well! Go ahead and e-mail it to me (you can get the info on my author page or my LJ). In compensation… for each work of fanart I promise a short drabble/ficlet on the subject of your choice. It doesn't even have to relate to Stars!

Now about this chapter: there's a great deal more here in the way of present narrative. This chapter, more than any previous ones, really gives the feeling of looking back. When is Tohma looking back from? Why, from the end of the story, of course, or roughly four years after the manga. Yes, pick your jaws off the floor; I really plan to take it that far. You'll come along for the trip, won't you?

I appreciate feedback and ideas… yes, experiencing this time from Ryuichi's POV _would_ be fascinating, but _Shooting Stars_ is Tohma's story. Perhaps I will write one of the bonuses (like _Happy Endings_, which I hope you've read!) on that subject eventually? For now, content yourselves with Tohma's narrative and Ryuichi's long, complicated speech that takes up a good half of the chapter, which is followed by Tohma's definitive descent towards what he becomes by the time of the series…

Disclaimer: I suffer from megalomania (see the author's notes of doom!) but not to the point of believing I own Gravitation…

* * *

That was when we first started falling apart, I think. Then again, maybe we began falling apart much earlier—possibly before I even left for New York. I'm not really sure when it started, actually, but it seemed to only gain momentum as time went on. I could almost feel something coming, something too enormous and terrible to really comprehend, but I couldn't seem to help any of the choices I made that only lead us closer and closer to the edge.

I brought Mika-san to live with me the near the end of September, and until mid-October Ryuichi-san didn't come to work. That first afternoon, K-san was furious, but something happened between that day and the next that cooled him considerably. In any case, the next day he only said, "I'm afraid I may have been working you too hard. A few weeks won't hurt anything; the new single isn't due for a month and a half and there are no tours planned. Ryuichi is taking a trip to visit his family in Los Angeles and I've canceled your TV spots, so enjoy it while it lasts." I felt like I was still trapped in the same strange alternate world that Ryuichi-san had thrown me into the day before; K-san never gave vacations, he practically didn't give days off, unless something was seriously wrong and beyond his control.

We took the vacation. Forcibly, I ended up spending a great deal of time with Mika-san, and remembered I really did enjoy her, in a way. Living with her was very different than living with Eiri-kun had been, and just as different from the half-cohabitation that Ryuichi-san and I had had. She was an early riser like me, but she was hardly coherent before the first cup of some sort of caffeinated beverage. She always spoke her mind and had a propensity for nagging, but I felt remarkably at ease with her, considering. She was a good cook but hated being in the kitchen with a passion unsurpassed, so I found myself making the majority of the meals. I assumed we'd end up ordering out a great deal once I was busy again, or perhaps I would hire her a housekeeper. She spent hours in the bathroom in the mornings and evenings, reminding me of Noriko-san's time practically living out of my apartment, which made me smile. In general, my experience with women in the past was limited to Noriko-san, and every time I found something the two had in common it was a little easier to resign myself to the way things had become.

She put up with my strange sleeping habits for a few days, then confronted me about it, saying that she understood everything, but was I going to avoid my own bed for the rest of my life? Because if so, she would start sleeping on the couch with me. After that, we slept side by side, though I didn't think to touch her, at least until she took matters into her own hands one night when I was already asleep, and I was too disoriented upon waking with lips and hands on me to think about what I was doing until it was done, and afterwards, bizarrely, I was no longer uncomfortable with her.

She began modifying the apartment and making wedding plans, and I let her have her way in all of it. I didn't want to argue with her because it didn't seem to be worth it, but in a strange way, I found her presence a comforting one. It seemed that over the years, I had become unaccustomed to being alone. It was soothing to hear someone breathing next to me as I fell asleep, though sleep was generally the only thing we shared.

On the last day of the impromptu vacation, I had a solo interview that I had told K-san not to bother rescheduling. When I came home from it, there was delighted female laughter coming from the kitchen. I discovered Mika-san and Noriko-san bent over some sort of magazine and engaging in a fit of giggles that didn't seem to suit my usually serious fiancée in the least. There was a half-empty bottle of wine and the remains of some sort of chocolate cake on the table. My old friend was the first to look up and notice me in the doorway, and she greeted me through her laughter, causing Mika-san to look up as well. "It appears all sorts of people have keys to your apartment," she told me, but this time there was nothing accusing on her face, only good humor. "Your security is shoddy."

"Definitely something I need to look into," I said lightly. Somehow, it seemed that Mika-san could instinctively sense that this was very different from Ryuichi-san.

"Note his not mentioning I practically lived here myself at one point," Noriko-san said brightly.

"I had wondered who the pink lace pajamas I recently unearthed in the spare room closet belonged to," Mika-san said with a smile that had a hint of teasing around the edges. "They didn't look like they would fit Tohma, so I really wondered."

"Oh, is _that_ where I left them?" Noriko-san seemed wholly unconcerned. "God, that was years ago, but I can still remember turning my bedroom at home upside down looking for them! Why didn't you tell me you had secreted away my pajamas, Tohma-kun?"

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Noriko-san, it's been so long since you've gotten yourself drunk at my house. I'm strangely touched."

"I'm not drunk," she protested. She chanced a glance down at the magazine and her giggles returned. "I'm not _very_ drunk," she amended. Determinedly, she stood. "Well, I had better go. Tetsuya should be getting home any time now and I should relieve the babysitter before he gets there and realizes what a bad mother I'm being."

"Bring Saki-chan over next time," Mika-san told her. She seemed considerably more sober than the other woman, but then again she was a good head taller and built more solidly as well. When Noriko-san wobbled on her towering platforms, Mika-san stood as well. "I'll go back in the taxi with you," she said. "Especially since we weren't finished arguing about-"

"Oh yes, yes, yes, right!" Noriko-san exclaimed, cutting her off. "Of course; come along!" Before I could offer to drive them, they were out the door with the air of old friends. Somehow, I wasn't sure whether this should perplex, gladden or sadden me, or if I should have maybe expected it. I had a strange detached feeling, though, as if something very important had been torn from me.

Knowing it would be a good few hours before Mika-san returned, I cut myself a slice of the cake and headed to the piano, because when I was in doubt about anything, I preferred to work.

* * *

Ryuichi-san came back the next day, smiling and cheerful as usual, Kumagoro dressed in a ridiculous flowered shirt and doll's sunglasses. It almost gave me vertigo to look at him—it seemed like we had gone years back in time: before that horrible confrontation almost three weeks ago, before my disastrous breakdown, before New York, before everything. It was as if all of it had been erased, almost, but there was something about Ryuichi-san that seemed more than a little brittle now. It wasn't anything particular about his behavior or the way he stood or the way he smiled, but putting everything about him together, there was a strange sort of feeling of fragility, as if he might break at the lightest touch.

For a few days, I managed to work around it. He made it easy by acting as though nothing whatsoever was wrong. But I knew I wasn't the only one who noticed that sort of edge he had acquired—K-san watched him with quiet consideration, and Noriko-san went out of her way to touch him, my direct opposite, and her eyes when she looked at me hardened just a little every time I found an excuse to slip away. But Ryuichi-san worked as well as he ever had, smiling at journalists, charming fans, shedding innocence and replacing it with sensuality each time he was called upon to sing, until I began to wonder if maybe I was taking this harder than he was. It was my work that suffered, just like it had immediately after my return from New York, though on a lesser level. Nothing I wrote satisfied me, my arrangements seemed to fall flat to my ears, my hands ached, and smiling was difficult.

I was probably running again by keeping my distance the way I did. When I look back it seems sometimes that I have spent a good half of my life running from the things I wanted most. I ran from Noriko-san and Nittle Grasper, I ran from Eiri-kun, and when I started running from Ryuichi-san it was almost a habit. As I did when things became difficult for me, I simply lived day by day, note by note by note. There was a large part of me that wanted to take him in my arms and apologize a hundred times for the hurt in his eyes, and perhaps because I sensed that tendency in myself I kept from talking to him about anything more than banal, believing I could only make the situation worse.

Perhaps Ryuichi-san knew me better than I knew myself at the time, though. He let me run for a few days, then somehow got around me and was waiting for me by my car when I finally left the building much later than the rest of the team. He was wearing enormous sunglasses and it made his expression impossible to read. "Can I talk to you?" he asked quietly, and that was the sort of thing I couldn't refuse, so I opened the car and he got into the passenger side. We left the garage with a strange sense of déjà vu, especially when he pushed in the first CD he saw and pressed the random button, and the song that came out was the first half-failed single we had released after my return from New York. He didn't grimace this time, or sing along; he let it play quietly.

We were quiet for almost an hour as I maneuvered us out of central Tokyo. Once the roads were more deserted than not and we were cruising fairly easily through the southern edges of the suburbs, he finally spoke. "I hear that Mika-san is settling in. I'm glad." There was absolutely no accusing in his voice. It seemed as if he was sincere.

"Yes, she's doing well. Tokyo seems to please her." I didn't want to be discussing Mika-san with him, but I could find nothing else to hold on to. All the thoughts and possible conversation topics seemed to slip past my mental grip.

"You're getting along fairly well, looks like." He cracked the window open, let in the night a little. It was dark, but he kept his sunglasses. "I've been talking to Noriko-chan," he said by way of explanation. "She and I had a long talk… maybe some of the things she said were hard to swallow, but she was right, you know. I think I never apologized for the things I've done so thoughtlessly for the past two years." A slight smile touched his lips, but it wasn't one of his usual smiles—it seemed somehow more somber than tears would have been. "I might have been trying to help you, but I've been trying to help myself, too." He turned towards me, still smiling lightly. "You'll listen, all right? Just listen. I have a hundred things to say and I might not say them all if you interrupt me."

So I nodded, because I had nothing to say in any case. I wondered what Noriko-san had said to him to have him looking like this and saying such things. Though he had always been the one with a talent for words, I wondered how he could apologize so calmly—although I couldn't really put myself in his place, it made no sense that he would react so coolly and rationally. It seemed like I was the one who needed to apologize, but as always he was lightening my load, making it just a little bit easier for me.

"Good," he sighed. He let his head rest back against the seat and I had the impression that he might have closed his eyes before speaking again. "I had no right to you, not from the very beginning. I knew it, you know. You were never mine, no matter if we slept together or not. I knew that, I did, but I couldn't seem to help myself. So because you were weak, I told myself you needed something stable to anchor you, but really I was never so stable, you know? And when I tried to use that weakness to tie you to me and it didn't work, I got angry and frustrated and sad, and I shouldn't have, because I said I was only doing what I was doing to help you, and I don't know that loving me would have helped you at all. So instead I kept hoping things would change and I let you keep hurting me and I said nothing because maybe in a way I enjoyed it—at least it was _me_ you were hurting, you know? I think maybe it's harder to hurt someone important. Almost like… it takes trust. Trust in their strength, or in your own ability to fix it later or… I don't know, but has to be one of the hardest things to do, hurting someone you love… so you can almost enjoy the pain that comes from being hurt that way.

"Noriko-chan warned me about it from the very beginning. You weren't mine to console, she told me, and I was asking to be broken if I let myself become your leaning post because you needed less from me than what I needed to give to you. 'Don't hurt yourself,' she told me. Not, 'Don't let him hurt you.' I didn't listen to her, though, because I was selfish and I told myself that whatever was wrong with your heart would magically heal itself if I only gave you mine. And that was a mistake, too, but it's a mistake I'd probably make again, and I'm sorry."

We were out of the city entirely now and he rolled his window all the way down, leaning on the frame, letting the wind hit his face. "It's not that I'm guilty and you're innocent. It's just that things aren't black and white like that, you know? There isn't much of a difference between us, really, except… I really do love you, you know. I've always loved you, since before I even knew you very well. It just… was. Kind of like… magnets, maybe. You've always pulled at me like that, and so even though I knew you weren't mine, it didn't matter and I won't apologize for it. I can apologize for the rest of it, I can even apologize to… the one I tried to pull you away from… but I can't be sorry that I loved you.

"But maybe I knew from the beginning that things couldn't be simple the way I wanted them to be. Do you remember that day we went to the beach? We were sitting and watching the sunset, and we talked about wanting things we shouldn't and couldn't have, and about unreachable dreams."

"I remember," I spoke for the first time since he had started, because that day had stayed fresh in my memory as something important. "You told me that if you ever reach your unreachable dream, you die." A morbid philosophy, but one I had started to believe; just a soft touch on the edges of my dream had destroyed not only me but everyone around me. I often remembered those words recently; something K-san had said—I had always found it odd to hear such fatalistic words had him at their source. He seemed full of optimism and determination to defy the odds.

Ryuichi-san hummed in agreement. "Yes, that. I'm sorry for that, too, because I didn't tell you the rest, because I didn't want you to know. K told me once that if you ever reach your unreachable dream, you die." There was that half smile again, and I could tell in the half-darkness that his cheeks were damp, and I realized the sunglasses and the wind in his face were simply so I wouldn't watch him grieve, and I immediately felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. "But he also told me… if you don't reach for it anyway, even knowing that, you're already as good as dead."

* * *

I took him home eventually, though it was very late by the time we got there. We didn't really talk once he had finished, I only drove and he only watched the road. There were too many things I wanted to say and no way to say them, so I let the silence grow long and heavy. I realized then as I had never before that however well I grew to know him, I would never be able to truly get into his head. The only thing I understood was that his heart was enormous and giving, and that he could struggle to take away some of my guilt and pain all the way to the very end.

And it did feel like an ending. There was something very final about the way he reached across to run his fingers through the hair at the back of my neck, once, achingly familiar, before leaning over and placing a soft, chaste kiss on my lips. Then he was out of the car and smiling from behind the ridiculous sunglasses he refused to remove. "Thank you for the ride, Tohma," he said, as though I had simply been doing him a favor by dropping him off after work. "Call Mika-san; I'll bet she can't sleep wondering where you've vanished to." I noticed once again that he accorded her an honorific, as he did with practically no one else. I couldn't decide if it was genuine respect or resentment that caused him to do it—it could have been either. "Good night."

"Good night, Ryuichi-san," I replied, and closed the window and drove away, marveling at how final this felt, as if he had stepped not only out of the car, not even only out of my bed, but out of my life. _Which is ridiculous, because I am going to see him at work tomorrow. In a few days, I may even be able to look him in the eyes. Maybe someday, we'll go back to the way we were before._ But whatever I told myself, I felt the tears growing somewhere behind my eyes, not quite ready to brim and fall, but coming dangerously close.

I picked up my cell phone and hit the speed dial for my home number. Three rings in, Mika-san answered, her voice husky with sleep. "Moshi moshi?"

I considered just hanging up, but the damage was done. "Mika-san, I apologize for waking you. I realized I hadn't warned you I would be back late tonight."

She yawned, then made a sound like some sort of sleepy feline. That had to be genetic—I had certainly heard something similar out of Eiri-kun before. "Noriko came over and told me," she said on a yawn. "Were you going to be gone until morning?"

The question was voiced neutrally, without a hint of any sort of accusation or, indeed, concern. "It's already morning, Mika-san. But no, I'll be back in half an hour." The feeling that washed over me was uncontrollable, terrifying helplessness. The feeling, though I didn't know it then, that invades you when your life is falling slowly but relentlessly to pieces. I had never felt more like a failure to everyone and everything than in that moment, possibly not even during those hellish hours in a New York emergency room. At least then I had had a hand to hold on to and naiveté enough to think that maybe things were not past saving.

It was a terrifying feeling, every bit as terrifying in its way as love was, and just as beyond me and uncontrollable. I had a desperate need to do something, anything that might remind me I was still in control, of anything at all, as she yawned again and said, "If that's all then…"

The inspiration was immediate, and I didn't think it through, only blurted out, "Wait, one more thing: what was the name of that girl? The one Eiri-kun was dating right before he got hurt. Chiharu something or other? I'm afraid I forgot." More like he didn't mention it. But Mika-san would know, even if he had never brought the girl home, because she worried.

"At this time of…" she made another frustrated, sleepy noise, as if she couldn't be bothered with me. "Takagi, I think?" she said finally, clearly giving up on understanding why I was asking for it. "Can I sleep now?"

"Yes. I'm sorry again, Mika-san. Good night."

"Don't wake me when you get home," she murmured. "'Night," she tagged on, though this sounded more like a vocalized yawn than anything, and the line went dead.

I held the phone for a moment, then chanced looking away from the road to find another number in my repertory and hit dial. The voice that answered this time was male, and didn't sound sleepy at all. "Yes?"

I switched to English. "This is Seguchi," I told him, assuming correctly he wouldn't need any more than that. K-san's acquaintances were nothing if not efficient, and over the years I had gathered one or two contact numbers, mostly for "emergency purposes", as K-san liked to say when he passed me the contacts. I had never really thought to use them this way before, though I assumed it was something K-san did with some regularity.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Seguchi?"

"A favor, I hope," I said mildly, suddenly at peace despite my earlier turmoil. This, at least, was entirely under my control. Strangely enough, I felt no guilt whatsoever, but rather clear relief. "Takagi Chiharu. Probably a student at Shinonome High School in Kyoto. She has three brothers, all older. I'm afraid that's all I have."

"I can find her," the voice on the other end of the line said. There was a confidence in the lack of expression in that voice; I never doubted he would. "What did you need her for?"

"Not her, precisely" I responded. "One of her brothers. I need _him_ in the hospital with two broken ribs and a broken jaw," I continued, neatly doubling the gravity of Eiri-kun's injuries. "No more, no less. If you would then pass a warning to Miss Takagi, cordially reminding her that lying is highly unladylike behavior, that will be quite sufficient."

The man didn't sound surprised, shocked, or pleased. He sounded nothing at all. He only asked, "Which of the three would you prefer?"

"It doesn't much matter which. Whichever is convenient, I suppose."

"Consider it done, Mr. Seguchi. I'll be in touch." The line went dead and I replaced the phone on its car charger. It was just that easy to change a life—I knew that if I had asked for the boy to be eliminated entirely, or even the young girl herself, I would probably have gotten the same dryly efficient response, only been asked for a slightly higher remuneration.

Some part of me knew I should be disgusted by myself, that I was sick and this was wrong, and another part of me was strangely calmed by this, even a little drunk on the power I realized I held at my fingertips, and yet another only laughed at my indecision and spat Ryuichi-san's words back at me.

_And that was a mistake, too, but it's a mistake I'd probably make again, and I'm sorry._

But sorry was sorry, and sorry didn't mend broken bones or broken hearts or broken lives.

So while I still don't know when we started falling apart really, I do know that for me it became definitive then, that night when I said good-bye to Ryuichi-san and altered someone's fate consciously, without regret. It was the kind of first step that would lead to a second that couldn't be stopped, rather like the very first time Noriko-san had pulled me onto her piano bench. Only she had made me something shining, and everything I have done since seemed to serve only to tarnish and darken that part of me, and the things around me, but then, as now, I didn't know how to stop.

Perhaps it was because once Ryuichi-san withdrew his steadying hand, there was nothing but whatever the three of us could be together that I could hold on to. And by then, the link between us was already strained, and Noriko-san, the glue that held us together, suddenly seemed to be less and less capable of upholding that function in the face of everything that was so hideously wrong. So because I felt I could no longer hold on to the idea of "us", too afraid it would break if any more pressure was put on it, I turned instead to my only other constant, the desire, love, regret, responsibility, guilt, and obsession I felt in connection with Eiri-kun, as something to hold on to, and a little more of the shine I had had at the onset faded into darkness.

But all of these thoughts weren't clear then; all I really knew was that I was wrong about a lot of things but it didn't really matter. So instead of going home that night as I had promised I ended up in a bar somewhere, and when I was good and drunk and it was almost time for last call and the handsome, dark-haired man who was considerably more drunk than I was half-slurred, half-stammered out a proposition, I smiled as innocently as only I could and said, "I could be persuaded," swallowing the last drops of my martini. It tasted bitter, like defeat.


	25. Beginnings

**Shooting Stars**

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Beginnings**

* * *

Author's notes: TADAIMA! I know you're dying of shock. So many people never expected to see this story update again, but I always planned to go back to it someday, when I was ready. Looks like someday is now. Surprised? I've missed everyone, and I'm genuinely sorry—I assure you that my reasons for putting this fic on hold were very genuine ones. However I hope to finish it this summer. There are only a few chapters and an epilogue to go. 

Notes on this chapter are mostly notes on Japanese wedding customs. A shiro-maku is the traditional white wedding kimono, and a tsuno kakushi is that large white veil a Japanese bride wears. It is meant to hide her horns of jealousy and show that she will be obedient to her new husband. Also, it is common for the bride and groom's families to split the costs of the wedding, and it is also fairly common to get married twice in the same day, once by a Shinto priest and once in Western style. There is such a thing as a Japanese Buddhist wedding, but traditionally Japanese Buddhist temples are more frequently used for funerals than weddings, so it's plausible that Uesugi-san wants his daughter married with Shinto rites instead. Finally, completely unrelated to wedding customs, shichi-narabe is a card game, and if you don't know what Mah-Jongg is, I'm afraid I wash my hands of you.

Finally, the first part of this chapter is, appropriately enough, an ending. The next chapter, titled "Endings" will start with a beginning.

Stick with me! We're in the home stretch! I love Mika, in case you couldn't tell. In this chapter, Tohma and Mika's wedding and the imminent collapse of Nittle Grasper...

Disclaimer: I still don't own Gravitation, but I own a goodly portion of Tohma's wardrobe, of which my friends are very jealous.

* * *

The next winter was a busy one. With a hopeless sort of blind optimism, I threw myself into our latest promotional tour. I thought it a fortunate turn of events at first, because touring was a miserable, hectic lifestyle which took all of my time and energy. There was not much time for heavy thoughts when we were constantly flying somewhere, running somewhere else, rushing to make-up, wardrobe, practicing, performing, signing autographs, running from overzealous fans, and doing the hundreds of other little things that made up the tour. 

On our first tour years ago, I remember we would fall asleep in cars, dressing rooms, airplanes, and just about anywhere else we could find, Noriko-san's head in my lap, Ryuichi-san leaning against my side. By now, we were more accustomed to the pace of it, or maybe we were simply too distant from each other to fall asleep in such a trusting way. Car and plane trips were filled with a less companionable sort of silence: sipping coffee, studying scores, Ryuichi-san's coloring because it kept his mind off his occasional motion sickness, headphones in everyone's ears to drown out the engine, which was trying to drown out the silence.

On our first tour, we had played games when we were not too tired to stand. Card games, word games, board games sometimes, initiated by Noriko-san or Ryuichi-san. I got caught up in them somehow, just like I got caught up in everything those two did, with their boundless enthusiasm and energy. I remember Noriko-san was the undisputed champion at Mah-jongg, a game at which I was passable and Ryuichi-san was absolutely hopeless. For the fourth player, she would pull in any random member of our team who looked to have nothing better to do—Ryuichi-san's bodyguards, sound technicians, wardrobe consultants, K-san. One of the make-up girls we had our first year had been very good, and she and Noriko-san had spent a long time crowing over the superiority of females in general before I beat them all soundly in a round of shichi-narabe, of all useless childish things.

I don't think the Mah-jongg board even came along on this latest tour; certainly neither Noriko-san nor Ryuichi-san tried to engage me in any gameplay. Once we arrived at our hotel, we retreated to our own rooms for rest, and I at least took more than half of my room service meals alone. It seemed too much work to go out into the public area and be cheerful when we were all so tense. I found I couldn't take Noriko-san's tragic eyes or Ryuichi-san's forced cheerfulness. I told myself they didn't want to see me, either, and kept to myself.

The cracks in the once-seamless team that had been Nittle Grasper spread.

Touring was good for me, I convinced myself, because it kept me out of my apartment for awhile, away from the constant reminder of the life that I had chosen for myself. It was not precisely that I was averse to marrying Mika-san—my relief was more along the lines of getting out of the way of the planning stages for the thing. Marriage was one thing, but sitting around and discussing it was vaguely terrifying. I hoped somehow that by the time I got home it would all be arranged, and I could just put on my costume, speak the appropriate words, sign the necessary papers, and it could be done. It would be a sort of performance in itself, though for once I had absolutely no desire to be up in front of a crowd. I also had a deep-seated kind of dread that I would come home to find my dishes replaced, my closet rearranged, and my entire apartment refurnished. I tried to tell myself firmly that I had to trust Mika-san to do what was best, but the thought of it made me queasy. And although touring kept me far away from all of that, I wished after the first week to get away from _this_ too: Noriko-san's eyes, Ryuichi-san's smiles, K-san's growing displeasure.

At least we performed the way we always had. Whatever was wrong with us was put away when we came out on stage together. There, we shone with the same sort of brilliant light we had always carried around us, and it only grew in brightness as the time went on. We could hardly do less, with Ryuichi-san's fevered, intense energy wrapping around our music and giving it flight. He had always sung as though nothing else mattered, but now I knew he sung because nothing really did. He was heartbreakingly fantastic every single time he stepped into the lights; sometimes it felt that whether divine or demonic in nature, the power he commanded with his voice was anything but human. Too often, I wished I could reach out and touch him, just to reassure myself that he was still real. But even after the lights had faded, when we were together in the comforting backstage darkness which had always been ours, I did not dare touch him, not even casually, because I understood implicitly what he had not said—whatever we had had between us had to be put away.

But there was still satisfaction in the music, so I threw myself into it with all that was left of my heart. I remembered with sudden clarity the person I had been nearly ten years ago, before Noriko-san and everything else that had come to change me. Back then, music had been my only emotional outlet, the only way I had ever found to feel _alive_ as I had not known I could be. I was so different now, yet despite all the changes, I found solace in my music once again. I composed effortlessly, anger and dying hope and futility and the tragedy of all that I was losing woven into the music. Ryuichi-san still gave me his words without reservation, and they were probably the only true words spoken between us at that time.

Noriko-san watched us with growing sadness. I knew she was upset and depressed and angry with both of us, but she didn't say anything to that effect throughout the course of the tour. I remember very vividly the one time we actually spoke to each other during that tour. It was another of my frequent sleepless nights, and when I went out to the balcony that ran along out floor of the hotel for a breath of much-needed cold air, I found her studying the lightscape of Hiroshima and smoking a cigarette with shaking fingers.

I remember standing there dumbly for a few moments before I finally managed to say, "I didn't know you smoked."

Her hand shook a little and she let out something like a laugh, though the sound was far too bitter for the Noriko-san I had once known. "I thought it was time I picked up a bad habit. My singing voice is hardly top-notch, anyway. I guess I can ruin it further."

I took a few steps to stand next to her. The warm, bitter smoke from her cigarette blew past my face on the light, chilly breeze. "Does it make you feel better?" I asked, wondering if I, too, would succumb to the habit eventually. Everyone else seemed to find it comforting.

She rewarded me with another strange half-laugh. "Not enough. But I need it, for my nerves." She took another long drag, released another puff of smoke. She offered me the cigarette. "Want to share?"

I took it, though I doubted my opinion would be any different this time than the last time I had stupidly tried smoking. I tasted her lipstick on the cigarette, a taste once familiar from the days when we had shared coffee cups and lollipops. I coughed out the acrid smoke and shook my head to clear it before giving the cigarette back. "That continues to be disgusting," I told her.

"Yes," she said, "I know, it really is, isn't it?" Her eyes were dark as she looked up at me, and a little too shiny to be dry. "But you know, you two have driven me to the end of my rope. I have to _do_ something, or I'll explode." She tried to smile at me, to pass it off as a joke, but a tear slid down her cheek and belied her efforts. "I'm going to bed now, Tohma-kun. It's too cold for me." She did not reach to me for comfort and warmth, as she might have done once. She only slipped away, leaving me alone with cold, smoke-tinged air.

* * *

I returned to Tokyo in March to precisely the sort of warfare I had been hoping to avoid by escaping on tour. I walked into my apartment to find Mika-san yelling hysterically into her phone, something about old-fashioned, completely unstylish idiocy; I stood in the entrance hall wondering if I could just sneak out and find a drink elsewhere when she noticed me and hung up on whoever it was without so much as a good-bye. She stood there wild-eyed for a few moments while I gathered up the courage to say, "Good evening, Mika-san; you seem to be… energetic tonight." 

She stared another moment, barked out a laugh, and launched herself at me for a quick hug, startling me into taking a step backwards into the door I had so unfortunately shut behind me. "I'm sorry," she said candidly, "my father is a decrepit idiot. I'm glad you're home; there's tea in the kitchen."

Over the next hour, I heard more deprecating comments in the direction of the father she usually revered. Eventually, I got her to calm down enough to explain to me why exactly she was insulting her beloved parent, and, as I had feared, was treated to far more in the way of wedding plans than I had ever wanted to know.

Her father, she informed me with utter disdain, wanted a traditional Shinto wedding, complete with white face paint, a shiro-maku kimono, and a tsuno kakushi for her head, which she was utterly convinced would make it look like a large, white box. She did not want to look like box; she wanted to be modern. She wanted a western wedding, with a western-style dress, lace gloves, a train, a veil, and so on. She wanted an organ and the Pachelbel canon in D; he wanted traditional flutes, and furthermore, he wanted a fall wedding, claiming the most auspicious date would come in mid-October. Mika-san, naturally enough, wanted cherry blossoms, which meant an April wedding, and she was sick of waiting, she told me, and wanted this whole thing _done_ with already.

That was the one point on which we seemed to agree.

She didn't take the fact that I had no particular opinion particularly well. I tried to placate her by telling her I was sure she would look lovely in whatever she ended up wearing, but that didn't help, either. I finally pleaded exhaustion and escaped to bed, wondering if I was to expect this sort of behavior constantly from now on and if I _really_ knew what I was doing. Just then, getting mixed up with her seemed like the worst idea I had ever had.

Fortunately for me, Mika-san turned out to be unreasonable about only this one thing. However, as I did not _know_ this at the time, I became progressively more irritated in the days leading up to the wedding. To make things just a little worse, while Noriko-san was still avoiding anything resembling true conversation with me, she and Mika-san were suddenly fast friends, immersed in catalogs and magazines and God only knew what else—it seemed a little as though Noriko-san was living this wedding vicariously, infusing it with all the spectacle and pageantry that her own shotgun wedding had denied her. She and Mika-san took over my dining room with their planning, opening the windows so they could smoke while they flipped pages and swatches of fabric and argued, and I felt very much a stranger in my own home. Sometimes, Noriko-san brought Saki-chan along, and the toddler added a great deal of noise to the already-uncomfortable situation.

It was at these times that I headed out to the bars just to escape from it—I think I drank more in February and March of that year than I had ever drunk previously. I think there is a necessary bout of drunkenness in the downward spiral of depression; certainly it made me feel better at the time. Occasionally, when the mood struck, I let someone take me home; usually, though, I turned down all offers. If the women with their terrifying lists and catalogues hadn't been in my dining room, I would much rather have been home, seated at the piano, though I probably would have been drinking all the same. If she noticed, she didn't say anything. Fortunately for me, I never lost myself enough to bring anyone home myself, or she certainly would have drawn the line. Fighting with Mika-san was the last thing I wanted to do.

Luckily, she had gotten her way in most things as her personal war with her father drew to a close, so being around her wasn't altogether unbearable after a few months. I only balked a little when she told me that we would have to be married twice in the same day—once in the Shinto temple and then again in a Western ceremony—after all, we were hardly the only couple to do so, considering the constantly growing popularity of all things Western in Japan, and what Mika-san couldn't win from her father she seemed to want to make up by beggaring him. The amount which was quoted to me as sixty percent of the overall cost was absolutely astronomical. I knew that offering to pay more would probably be taken badly, so I kept quiet, signed the check, and wondered if Mika-san wasn't trying to drive her father into an early grave as revenge for the tsuno kakushi.

At that point, I had to agree with him that she needed something to cover her horns.

* * *

I married Uesugi Mika on a sunny, perfectly fragrant day in mid-April of that year. Ultimately it really did come down to wearing the presented costumes, speaking the proper words, and signing the necessary papers. Mika-san's eyes, carefully lined in black and standing out in stark relief against her white face, were shining as she caught my gaze over the ceremonial sake cups. Her face, after months of turmoil, was suddenly perfectly tranquil under the layer of traditional make-up, and she seemed to radiate a stabilizing sort of calm. This was so unexpected, and she looked suddenly so fragile and beautiful, that I couldn't help but smile faintly at her, and forgive her a goodly portion of her sins. 

During the second ceremony several hours later, I caught Eiri-kun's eyes, and although he looked rather uncomfortable in his tuxedo and bowtie, he almost smiled at me. My head was still aching dully from the amount I had drunk last night, not at all helped by the ceremonial sake earlier, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the expression he wore when facing me wasn't one of open hostility. Mika-san came down the aisle, still beaming with benign grace, and his smile grew fractionally as his eyes left me to follow her progress. I understood only then that I had finally managed to do something right.

The reception that followed the two consecutive weddings was a long blur. Ostensibly I drank nothing alcoholic, yet very little of the afternoon remained in my memory, except the burning desire for alcohol or caffeine, preferably in a silent, dark room away from everything that surrounded me. I followed through with the proper traditions anyway, presiding over the gathering, Mika-san in yet another traditional kimono at my side. My parents, who I had not seen in over a year and a half, were watching me with cautious pride, my father's gaze marred a little by disbelief. It seemed they had not actually expected this to happen after it had been put off for so many years.

I still wasn't sure _I_ wanted this to happen, but there she was, newly named Seguchi Mika, sitting next to me. Whether I liked it or not, after several hours of torture I was most certainly married, for better or for worse. I very badly wanted a drink, and stifled the urge.

I talked to a few hundred people as that afternoon and received hundreds of congratulations, surely, but the only conversation I remember very distinctly was the one I had with Ryuichi-san. He approached us with K-san and an uzi trailing behind him. There was nothing but cheerful benevolence on his face as he offered his congratulations first to Mika-san, then to me. Though I had grown used to the shadows in his eyes, none were there. It was as if he, too, was suddenly filled with peace. I wondered what had brought him this sudden tranquility, and whether it would work as well for me.

"Congratulations, Tohma," he told me in his quiet, adult voice; he was in one of those states when one could not be quite sure whether he would pounce like a small child or spout brilliance like an utter genius. I had learned over the years to approach this version of Ryuichi-san with utmost caution. My polite smile was a little hesitant.

"Thank you," I told him.

"I'm glad for you," he said. Again, no shadows. "I hope you will be happy in your new life. A hundred roads lead to happiness; surely, you will find one of them." Then, before I could say anything else, he suddenly reverted to child mode, bouncing off to latch himself to Tetsuya-san, and I knew better than to pursue him and ask him for an explanation for the random bit of wisdom. K-san once again shadowed him, as if he would need protection from anyone at my wedding reception. Mika-san's childhood and college friends had been given strict instructions not to jump on him, and although a few of them looked ready to break their promise of good behavior, Ryuichi-san somehow stayed cheerfully unmolested.

Suddenly, I felt a small hand in mine; I turned my head in surprise to see Mika-san looking up at me with understanding and concern in her eyes. "Thank you," she said very quietly.

"I don't know why you're thanking me, Mika-san," I told her, honestly at a bit of a loss. I had gone along with her plans, true enough, but I had hardly been an active or willing participant in this pageantry. And certainly we both knew that I had not married her for the right reasons. Yet she thanked me, with soft, shining eyes and a small smile on her lips.

"Thank you all the same, husband." It was strange to hear her calling me that. I hoped she wouldn't make a habit of it. "For giving me what I wanted." She raised a hand to my cheek to break the serious mood and out of nowhere added playfully, "Make a habit of it, and we will do very well."

Surprisingly enough, this phrase had the desired effect, and I smiled back. It sounded like something Noriko-san would have said, in the days when we were close. "I think that was meant as a threat," I told her, the kind of good-humored reply I would have given my closest friend.

"Very possibly," she replied. A little of her calm seemed to spread out to envelop me, and I didn't want that coveted drink quite as badly.


End file.
